In exile
by tanithw
Summary: Voldemort won the final battle at Hogwarts and has a plan to deal with the defenders who are still alive. This is the story of their struggle to survive and their attempt to overthrow him. Mostly DH compliant. MM/HG of course.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: Another impulse story for you. Enjoy ;)**

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Lightening tore across the sky, thunder rolled around the castle grounds, torrents of rain poured from the sky turning the ground into sticky mud. The lights from the castle had gone out and except for strobe flashes, the darkness was absolute.

Hermione Granger was on her knees in a puddle, if it had been light she would have seen her blood pooling in the liquid but she wouldn't have cared. Her eyes were closed, her head bowed in miserable resignation but not defeat. Fists were clenched tightly, her fingernails cutting deeply into her palms.

Another body was shoved down beside her but Hermione didn't even bother to look who it was. Selfishly she didn't even care - her best friends were both dead, so many people that she cared about were dead. And now she was about to join them. Captured and forced to surrender Hermione did not even have the opportunity to die honourably in battle.

She struggled to control her breathing, letting the rain wash away the evidence of her tears. Gritting her teeth Hermione made a resolution, she would face her execution with dignity.

More of Hogwarts' surviving defenders were thrust into a cluster around her. Hermione heard the small pained or scared cries that they made, some pleading for their lives before being ominously silenced. She tried to ignore it all, focussing on her own pain and her new resolve. One thing that she couldn't ignore was the fact that only one person was silent apart from herself, the person next to her had not uttered a single sound and had remained motionless since hitting the ground.

"Lumos Maximus." Hermione slowly raised her head as she heard the familiar thin high pitched voice that had haunted Harry's dreams. Her chocolate eyes narrowed as she glared defiantly at Lord Voldemort.

The strutting dictator paced in front of his captives for a few minutes. "You have lost. Harry Potter is quite clearly dead. You did not surrender easily, unlike some of your compatriots." He laughed, a sound that was terrifying. "That poses a problem... you will never be allowed to walk free, don't flatter yourselves by thinking that you are a threat to my plans but you will be a nuisance."

He stood in front of Hermione, gazing into her eyes, noting with contempt the barely contained fury in her posture. Voldemort smirked before moving once more. "Pure-blood is too rare to waste any more of it needlessly. Too much has been shed tonight. Therefore my punishment for you is banishment."

He let the relieved whispers subside naturally, watching them with a cruel grin. Hermione said nothing, her talent for hearing the 'unsaid' words in statements came into play and she knew what was about to come next. The person beside her still said nothing, as Voldemort turned to face Hermione once more.

"Some blood of course is worth more than others. Stand up mud-blood!"

The young woman stood, water and mud pouring off of her muggle clothing as she gritted her teeth not allowing her numerous injuries to stop her standing upright and proud. "My name is Hermione Jean Granger." Knowing that she was about to die she allowed her anger and defiance to show fully.

The man who was once Tom Riddle stood eye to eye with the young witch. The teenager glared at him with no fear in her eyes, she was certainly an extremely impressive young woman. Even his own followers were afraid of him but she was not. Rarely had anyone stood before him in this manner. His intelligence sources told him that she had been the brains behind Harry Potter. Mentally he shrugged not without regret, the girl could have been an asset with the right motivation but she was still a mudblood and thus worthless.

"You are the only one here with an ounce of spirit... it's a shame that your blood is tainted... oh well." He shrugged visibly this time and lifted his wand, pointing it at Hermione. He was about to utter the killing curse when another voice cried out in the silence.

Minerva's voice rang out with all the authority that it could possess, an authority that stilled even the hand of Lord Voldemort. "Stop!"

With a raised eyebrow he turned to face the chosen successor of Albus Dumbledore. "Professor?"

"Hermione is not muggleborn."

Minerva could see the reactions of those around her but she kept her eyes focussed on those of her former schoolmate. "Strange you would say that Professor, her parents died protecting her location and they were undoubtedly muggles." A titter came from his followers. "I'm sorry Professor but your pathetic effort to save your student will not succeed."

"She was adopted."

Hermione willed her frown not to show, she knew that she had not been adopted, knew that Minerva was lying to protect her. She said nothing, did not let her surprise show – she would not say anything that could make Voldemort decide to _punish_ the older witch.

"Her mother gave her away without her fathers consent. He never got the chance to tell her but I have copies of the paperwork in my office." Her voice held just the right note of pleasure in knowing something that others did not, he could appreciate that.

The young witch filed away the knowledge that Minerva was a fantastic liar, that the older woman had her practically believing what she had said.

"And who were her parents?"

"Sirius Black and Dorcas Meadowes, I am sure that you remember her."

"My cousin was many things but would not mate a mud-blood!" Bellatrix screamed at Minerva standing right in front of the other woman.

"Would you mind getting her out of my face?" Minerva glared at her. Voldemort clicked his fingers and she reluctantly moved away like a truculent puppy having been reprimanded by its master. "I have a signed statement written by Sirius."

He raised his wand in the direction of the ruined castle and used a summoning charm. Inwardly Hermione was praying that whatever 'proof' had been manufactured would stand up to his scrutiny or Minerva would be dead. Paperwork fluttered into his hand, after casting a series of spells Voldemort smiled at her. "I am satisfied that you are a half-blood, would you consider joining me?"

"No."

"Then sit!"

Hermione returned to her prone position in the mud. Suddenly she was afraid in a way that she hadn't been before, the idea of an unknown future without her friends or family was horrifying. Subtly her chocolate eyes sought the older woman and was comforted by her presence; Minerva was someone that she cared about, a living breathing person.

They watched aghast as their wands were snapped and burnt with Fiendfire - completely destroyed by the death eaters. Obviously they were not going to be given opportunity to use magic in the future, wherever the exile might be.

Bellatrix Lestrange moved to stand in front of them, her own wand drawn. Hermione tried not to let her fear show. The Death Eaters lips parted as she uttered the words that rendered the survivors of Hogwarts unconscious at her feet.


	2. Chapter 2

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**Authors Note: Here's the next chapter, thanks for the reviews and enjoy this! Updates my be a little sporadic for a while though.

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The first thing Hermione was conscious of was being very cold. Her teeth were chattering and she was shivering. A strong wind tore at her wet clothing chilling her to the bone. Rocks were digging into her back uncomfortably and gouged her palms as she levered herself up into a sitting position.

Hermione couldn't stop the pained gasp that slipped from her lips. Her battle wounds were still bleeding, her whole body ached and mentally she was in agony. Inhaling sharply she tried to calm herself, adamant that she would not reveal how vulnerable she really was at that moment.

Another gasp came from behind her. Hermione spun to face the person who had made the noise, using her hands to propel herself into a ready crouch. The only light came from the bright multitude of stars overhead in the clear sky but it was not bright enough for Hermione to determine if the unknown person was friend or a foe.

Several moments passed in silence, broken only by the sound of sniffing. "Miss Granger?"

"Professor." Hermione was just as shocked as Minerva sounded. She stood up and willed her eyes to adjust to the darkness, picking her way across rocks towards Professor McGonagall. They both began to stare around them, looking for other survivors or Death Eaters but seeing nothing.

"There is no one close by, I can detect the fading scent of others but we are alone for now."

"...But not out of danger." Minerva looked at the silhouette of the young woman beside her, seeing some of the changes that the past year had wrought on her former pupil. She was poised ready to do battle, her eyes scanning the scenery watching for a threat.

"No. Despite 'His' uncharacteristic altruism... the Death Eaters are still vicious, cruel and many have personal vendetta's against those of us who survived. We will be in danger until he is dead and they are in Azkaban."

"Is that still possible?" Hermione sat down, rubbing her arms fiercely to try and return feeling to the chilled skin.

Minerva took one final scan of their surroundings and sat beside the young woman. Deft fingers found the clasp of her cloak and pulling it off, she draped it over both of their shoulders. "Nothing is impossible."

"That isn't much of an answer Professor."

"I am aware of that but it is the only answer that I can give you."

Sitting closely together they waited for that terrible night to finally end. Both secretly dreading what the morning would reveal.

* * *

When the oppressive darkness finally began to lift, the true nature of their exile became clear. While still hazy and grey, their surroundings became visible. A growled oath could be heard from the elegant professor, echoed by the slightly stronger curse that Hermione uttered.

They were on a windswept hill overlooking a dark, cold and stormy sea. Wind was whipping at the waves stirring them into a fury as they slammed into a small rocky bay at the base of the hill. The vista before them was grey and barren, rocky with little vegetation, a desolate scene. Behind them was a small thicket that restricted their view.

"It's too dark to wander around at the moment."

"I wish that I could see as well in human form as I can with my animagus one."

"That would be an advantage but I suspect we will know all we need to shortly."

"Indeed Miss Granger." They waited in silence, watching as the sky lightened further finally revealing the full magnitude of their isolation. From their vantage point they could not see any land, just endless cold water that seemed to go on forever. Their exile had obviously been well planned; stranding them in such a desolate area without supplies or even their wands was tantamount to a death sentence.

Minerva sighed lowering her head in a moment of self-indulgent defeatism, few witches or wizards had ever survived this type of exile. Used frequently after conflicts throughout history as a means of weeding out the weak or those who would not be converted, the process had been less commonly used in the last century.

"We need to find fresh water as our first priority."

"What would be the point Miss Granger? Even if we survive past the next few weeks, which is doubtful... eventually we will be forced to join Voldemort or die." Minerva spat out his name for the first time since Hermione had known her.

The young witch stood and reached out a hand to help her former professor to her feet. "Don't forget Professor, that I am muggle-born, something that Voldemort and other pure-bloods never fail to underestimate. We must tend to our survival before considering what may or may not happen in the future."

Minerva allowed herself to be pulled up, "I meant no offence."

"I was merely stating a fact. While I am not a survival expert I am used to accomplishing things in the muggle manner, you are not."

"Then I leave myself in your capable hands Miss Granger."

Hermione led Minerva down towards the shoreline, thinking that it might be the right way to find a stream of fresh water that fed into the sea. She was correct, finding a small brook that cut its way through a low cliff, forming a small pool before tumbling into the churning salt water below.

Kneeling on the thin grass Hermione lowered her cupped hands into the stream above the pool and raised the icy cold water to her dry lips. Sipping it carefully, she winced as a sharp 'ice cream' pain shot through her skull. She crawled backwards allowing the older woman to drink next.

Watching Minerva bending over, the young woman noticed that the rocky soil was stained with fresh drops of blood. "You're bleeding." There was a note of panic in Hermione's voice.

The older woman looked down at the ground, looking at the spatter marks. "Perhaps that is yours."

In slight shock Hermione looked down at her blood drenched long sleeved t-shirt and equally rust-stained torn jeans. There was fresh blood oozing from a rent in the front of her shirt and some from her upper thigh. Numerous other wounds had already scabbed over; Minerva ripped a piece of the hem away from her robe and dipped in into the water before cleaning the worst of the young woman's wounds.

Under Hermione's guidance she then tore strips from her robe once again and proceeded to bind the wounds tightly. "Are you injured Professor?"

"I have some bruises and scrapes, nothing drastic my dear, you appear to have suffered the brunt of the battle."

"I was lucky. Luckier than some." Minerva inclined her head in acknowledgement of their dead friends and comrades.

"What do we need to do next?"

"Explore the island; find some kind of shelter near fresh water but out of this wind and see if there is anyone else here."

"That sounds... efficient."

"Coming from you Professor, that is high praise indeed." They both snickered briefly, the wry amusement a break from the seriousness of the past day.

* * *

They spent the next few hours tripping over rocks and sparse undergrowth. Hermione was thoroughly disappointed by the lack of mature trees and wildlife, surviving in such a desolate place would take skills that she did not have – a realisation that she did not share with her companion. They walked through a patch of immature trees, many bent or leaning as a result of the strong wind and soon found a rocky overhang at the base of the hill that they had been abandoned on.

Sheltered by stone and trees they were suddenly warmer than they had been since the previous day. Hermione poked her head into a small fissure that was almost deep enough to be a cave. "With some alterations this could be made into a dwelling."

Minerva's expression was somewhat dubious but wordlessly she deferred to the younger womans judgement. Hermione had made a very astute observation about muggle skills earlier and the professor had to admit that the young woman had a point.

There was a small clearing in front of the cave, Hermione used her foot to kick debris and soil from the rocky ground. Crouching with a wince as the gash in her leg reopened, the young woman showed Minerva how to use rocks to make the surround for a small fire. "I will go and get some wood and the things we need to make a fire."

"How do you make a fire without magic?"

A pained smile crossed Hermione's face as she remembered the previous year, spent on the run with her best friends. "Hard work and lots of elbow grease." She walked into the wood and began to gather what she needed.

The professor was grateful for the task that she had been given, although stacking rocks in a circle was not mentally taxing, she was grateful for any distraction from her melancholy thoughts. She was unaware that tears were running down her face, as she lost the battle to maintain her self-control.

That was how Hermione found her several minutes later, kneeling on the hard ground, rocks forgotten, with her face buried in elegant hands as she sobbed loudly. The younger woman dropped her burden and placed a comforting hand on Minerva's shoulder. When the sobbing became more intense in response to her touch Hermione dropped to her knees, wrapping comforting arms around her former professor and finally succumbing to her own overwhelming grief.

* * *

The fire crackled and Hermione welcomed the heat, feeling chilled to the bone. An entire night spent in wet clothes and in **that **oppressive wind had left her feeling ill and weak, an effect exacerbated by blood loss. There was too much smoke being produced but she knew that was because the only wood she could find was damp at best.

She watched the flames flicker, remembering the fires of the previous night. In her mind seeing again Hogwarts in flames, hearing the screams of her classmates, witnessing once more the sudden flare of a curse or hex in the darkness. Minerva reached out and patted Hermione's knee, hearing the ragged indrawn breath that had broken the silence between them.

It was a few minutes later that they both heard a crashing in the undergrowth before them. Minerva reached for a wand that wasn't there, while Hermione grabbed a stout branch from the pile of fire wood. The bough was slightly rotten but solid enough to serve as a club of sorts. The two women held their breath waiting for the threat to reveal itself. Logically Hermione knew that the island was not large enough to support a predator big enough to make that amount of noise. That knowledge did nothing to stop the tingle of fear that ran down her spine and raised goosebumps on her skin.

"Ouch, for gods sake."

Emerald eyes met chocolate as they heard a male voice coming from the thicket. Something about it sounded familiar but neither woman could identify the speaker. Hermione took a firmer grip of her branch, hefting its weight slightly higher in preparation. Minerva nodded at her and raised her voice, "Who is there?"

Abruptly the rustling ceased. "Professor McGonagall?" Came the voice again, whoever it was obviously recognising the sharp, Scottish accent of the older woman.

"Yes..? Who are you?"

"It's George Professor, George Weasley and Luna Lovegood."

Joy radiated from Hermione but she retained enough presence of mind to keep hold of the bough. "George?"

"Hermione?" The rusting got closer, louder, and more frantic as the young man tried to beat his way through the undergrowth.

"What did you try to sell me in your shop before Sixth Year?"

There was a pause. "A love potion?" He was a little unsure but seemed to remember the incident.

"Oh George, it is you." She didn't bother to question Luna, it would quickly be evident if she was an imposter once they met. The noises ceased when the two former students burst from the thicket, Hermione dropped her branch and somehow found the strength to run to her friend. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly for a long moment.

When the brunette eventually broke away from him, she glanced at Luna who was characteristically looking at the underside of a leaf with interest, belying the seriousness of injuries evidenced by dried blood that crusted her delicate features. "Hey Luna."

"Hi. Do you think that this is a lilac?"

"Um... I doubt it."

"Oh, alright, that's just as well."

Hermione shook her head, glancing at Minerva who had unobtrusively wiped the tears from her face, obviously not wanting more people than necessary seeing her in a vulnerable state. The young brunette had tears in her own eyes as she looked once more at the sole-survivor of the Weasley clan. He shook his head, fighting a battle against his own tears, "I brought dinner."

She grinned at the two large fish that he held up. "How d'you manage that?"

"Tidal pool in the rocks that way." He gestured in the direction that he had come from, the area that Minerva and Hermione had yet to explore. "Then we saw the smoke from your fire."

"Is there anyone else there?" Minerva entered the conversation for the first time; George shook his head in the negative, looking rather helpless. He shoved the fish in Hermione's direction, not knowing what to do with them. The young woman laughed and told him to find a sharp rock.

Working on an age old instinct rather than a learnt skill Hermione managed to use the shard of flint that he gave her to gut the fish and sharpen twigs to spear them over the fire. By trial and error they discovered the correct distance to hold the fish cooking but not setting the twigs alight. Simply cooking the food took long time and Hermione resisted the urge to sigh. The three pure-bloods were relying on skills that she simply didn't possess. _Yet_.

* * *

The next step was building temporary shelters. This was something that Hermione's uncle had taught her many years earlier. They had decided to sleep in pairs for safety and warmth, two people could squeeze into the small wooden shelters that they were making but four could not.

"Ok George, just do that with the next few branches and I will be back in a minute." Hermione returned to Minerva's side and kept her voice low as she assisted the older woman with their shelter. "Are you ok?"

"Far from it." There was scorn in the older woman's voice, the answer to Hermione's question had been fairly obvious.

"Sorry that was a stupid thing to say. I'm just concerned, you've been pretty quiet since they turned up."

Minerva paused for a moment before resuming work. She dug the end of a branch into the soft earth, leaning it against the tree they were using for support and paused again, meeting earnest chocolate eyes. "I am... unused to associating with former students."

"You 'associated' with me just fine."

Minerva half-smiled, "That's different."

"How?"

The ebony haired witch shook her head slowly, "I am also used to having all the answers, surviving with my own skill, knowledge and abilities. It is disconcerting to be... helpless and reliant on others."

Hermione started filling in the cracks between branches with moss. "You have never been helpless Professor."

"And you overestimated your skills."

A nod, "Somewhat."

Minerva's skilled hands joined Hermione's, occasionally brushing against her fingers as they strove to finish the shelter before nightfall. "You said that we would use these until we can build more permanent shelters under the overhang?"

"Well Professor, we can build a stone 'wall' in front of each crevice, which will stop the wind and with fires inside should be warmer than these."

The elegant older witch raised an eyebrow, knowing that Hermione's plan was ambitious but also knowing that they would have plenty of time to learn the skills that they needed. "Miss Granger..." Mocha eyes met Minerva's in silent question. "As we are obviously going to be spending a great deal of time together..."

"Hmmmm."

"...Perhaps you should call me Minerva."

The young witch was slightly shocked, even within the privacy of her own mind she had never dared to even think of the older woman by her first name. "O...K..."

"If you would rather not..."

"It's not that, you just surprised me... Minerva."

"Thank you Hermione." The young witch had never loved her name as much as she did in that moment, the unwieldy syllables sounding wonderful when spoken with a Scottish accent. "I suspect that we will both need a friend in the coming weeks." For Hermione suddenly being in exile didn't seem quite so bad.

"Hermione!" With an apologetic look at Minerva, the young woman jogged back towards George in answer to his loud plea.

She helped him balance the tottering pile of branches carefully, trying to repair the damage that inexperienced hands had wrought. They worked in silence for several minutes until George whispered to her. "You two seem to have developed quite a rapport."

Hermione shrugged, not really understanding what was going on herself and not wanting to jinx 'it' by telling George about it. She knew that Minerva was an intensely private person and wouldn't want something that was their business being made public.

"Teachers pet." George teased her but there was no malice in his voice. Hermione grinned back and went back to work, there wasn't a lot of time left before dusk.

* * *

That night it rained once again and Hermione regretted allowing the others to stop building before they had put ferns on top of the wood to make the shelters waterproof. The fire had gone out as a result of the almost torrential rainfall and they were both cold. Huddled together under Minerva's cloak the two women eventually gave up on sleep and began to talk.

"What was that all about, at the castle? Sirius wasn't my father."

"After Voldemort's return Professor Dumbledore asked me to ensure your safety. At the time Sirius was still alive and was happy to sign the paperwork."

"And Dorcas Meadowes?"

"A member of the original order, she was captured and killed by Voldemort personally." Minerva's voice was matter of fact, the death of her friend was many years in the past and recent losses had superseded the earlier ones.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure Miss Granger." Minerva was smiling, Hermione couldn't see her in the darkness but could hear it in her voice. "Tell me what happened during the past year, we have had no time to catch up."

Hermione told her what had happened during the previous months, told her about the quest for the horcruxes and later the hallows. Explained how her friendships had crumbled in the presence of the dark artefacts, how Ron had left them in a snit and later returned to save Harry. Talking about their deaths made her cry, bawling loudly as she pressed her face into Minerva's shoulder. The older woman folded her arms around her protégé.

When morning came they would have to resume their battle for survival but for now the two women held each other tightly, talking about all of the friends that they had lost and their fears for the future.


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Note: Enjoy!!**

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Two weeks later

Minerva growled quietly. The noise was low, deep and from the back of her throat.

She crouched in the undergrowth watching a group of rabbits aimlessly wondering around, somehow none of them had managed to walk into her snare trap. It was extremely irritating. Hermione was expecting her to return with dinner and here she was cowering in a bush. None of her experience or training had taught her how to deal with this situation and her frustration was rapidly rising.

She growled once again as a pair of rabbits moved closer, her fingers dug into the ground as she crouched a little lower. Without conscious thought Minerva flexed her knees and bounded forward out of the undergrowth, snarling loudly.

* * *

Hermione fought her fatigue and forced the last rock into the wall, between the top row of stones and the roof of the rock overhang. Slathering more of her mud, sand and grass mixture into the gap to secure the stone, she took a step back to admire her handiwork.

While still rudimentary the wall sealing off the cave she was to share with Minerva, was complete. She rubbed her dirty hands on the remains of her shirt and glanced over at George. He still had four or five more layers to complete before it would form enough of a barrier. She stumbled tiredly over the fifty feet towards her friend and sat down.

"How's it going?"

"Slowly. How did you manage to finish before me? At this rate I won't be finished for days."

"Well... unlike you I do not keep running off to 'help' Luna."

George blushed and for a moment he really reminded Hermione of Ron. "I never realised how wonderful she is until we were stranded here."

An understanding, knowing smile crossed Hermione's face. "Just be careful mate. It's easy for feelings to be intensified in situations like this."

"Hermione."

"I'm sorry George but I wouldn't be a friend if I didn't say it. Do you need a hand?"

"Nah I'm ok." Hermione stood and clapped him on the shoulder before going to start a fire. Minerva should have been back from hunting already and there was little point in her bringing food if they had no way of cooking it.

* * *

Luna hummed discordantly to herself, finding a certain joy in the task that Hermione had given her. Weaving stalks and thin twigs into two long, thin panels to make doors to their respective dwellings. While it was almost high summer, this far north it was still cold at night and the added protection would be welcome.

She was thinking about George, few people had ever listened to her as seriously as he did. Luna was not stupid, she knew that her ideas were considered somewhat eccentric. He also had a way of thinking that was somewhat offbeat and she was intrigued by his ideas about potions and charms.

She considered their growing relationship as her fingers moved automatically, soaking the thick stems in water to make them pliable before threading them between the twigs. It was a skill that her ancestors must have had and so her hands moved without thought – guided by some kind of instinct.

It was the smell of roasting meat that eventually drew her from her reverie. She grabbed the one completed screen and the unfinished one, walking back in the direction of their camp.

* * *

Shortly after dinner Minerva excused herself and walked off into the gathering twilight.

* * *

Acute hearing detected footsteps walking up the hillside. Despite the fact that Minerva's eyes were closed she greeted Hermione by name.

"How did you know that it was me?"

"Aside from the fact that neither Mr Weasley nor Miss Lovegood would disturb me. I could smell you."

"I knew that I needed a bath."

Minerva laughed at the young woman's joke, before becoming serious once again. "That is hardly the point, albeit accurate."

"You don't smell that fresh yourself my dear professor."

Minerva shoved Hermione gently, in a joking manner that made Hermione smile. Crouching before her former mentor the young woman took an elegant hand in her own. "Tell me what is bothering you."

"Nothing."

Hermione paused, glancing beyond her mentor watching as the sun finally slipped completely into the sea. "You were fine until you returned from... hunting...Is that what's bothering you? Minerva we need the protein."

The older woman sighed, "Killing a few rabbits out of necessity does not bother me."

"Then what?"

"No."

"Minerva you asked me to be your friend, I cannot do that unless you trust me."

The older woman looked at Hermione before she turned her gaze back to her hands. The young witch watched in shock as Minerva's nails extended into wicked looking claws before they were retracted once again. "I cannot explain that which I do not understand Hermione."

Hermione took Minerva's hands in her own, for a long moment. "Those rabbits had no snare marks."

"I caught them and wrung their necks."

The young woman nodded. "Using your 'cat-like' reflexes?"

"Animagus traits do not influence a wizard, nor do they reveal themselves without actually being in their animagus form. And I cannot do that because I do not have a wand."

"As I understand my history lessons, magic evolved in certain people as a survival trait. Homo-magicus is the next stage of human evolution."

Minerva stood up with a slight growl, "I know that."

"Yes but my point is that animalistic traits will also be directed towards survival. Your body is used to responding to orders to turn into a cat, our current need may be directing it to partially transform in accordance to our needs."

Green eyes met Hermione's for a long moment before Minerva relaxed. "I had forgotten exactly how intelligent you really are during the last year."

The young woman chuckled, realising that Minerva was changing the subject. "Does that mean you missed me?"

"Of course I missed you! How could I not?"

* * *

Four days later

Hermione stood next to Minerva looking at the shelter that they had finished together. The almost straight wall that covered the overhang was perhaps eight feet long, extending past the opening by a few feet and turned at a right angle back into the rock face. That corner was partially roofed with a large rock that had taken the four of them to lift into place. The gap that was left would act as a chimney when they had a small fire inside during the cold weather.

They had spent a day covering the inside and outside of the walls with more of the sticky clay-like substance that Hermione had called 'mudcrete' – in the past few days it had dried making a type of plaster. Using Minerva's cloak they had dragged sand from a tidal pool on the western shore of the island, several trips had left them with a softer floor than the natural one. The screen that Luna had made for them covered the narrow entrance, it would provide them with both privacy and weather protection.

A familiar lithe arm slid around Hermione's waist, interrupting her scrutiny. She glanced up into Minerva's green eyes. "Our first home." She laughed at the humorous comment, leaning into the embrace that had become habit.

"Well it is certainly ours but home....?"

"Do not sell yourself short Hermione, you have made a wonderful job of it."

They could hear George and Luna messing around in front of their own shelter. There were shrieks and the sound of wet mud being flung around, Minerva turned in that direction and laughed at them, glad that they were feeling happier. She pulled Hermione by the hand into their dwelling.

"Minerva?"

"We need to talk Hermione."

"About?"

"The future."

The young woman sat next to Minerva on the heap of fern leaves and grasses that made up their bed. With the door closed there was little light that entered the overhang, the dim light making the older woman's eyes mysterious and almost black.

"Shouldn't they...?"

"They're too happy and too involved with each other at the moment. Besides they both defer to you."

"Ok, that's fine for now but they need to be involved with any decisions."

"What's next?"

"Huh?"

"You are the expert Hermione. We have succeeded in the first three objectives that you have given us; we have found food, created shelter and discovered a source of fresh water. What is next?"

"Escape." The young woman's tone was flat.

"How?"

"Where do you think that we are?"

Minerva paused sighing. "My best guess is that we are on a remote island either on the northern shore or the west coast."

"Of Scotland?"

"Yes. There are hundreds of small islands like this but I have no way of knowing more accurately than that."

"They probably wouldn't have placed us near a shipping route or near any main fishing areas either."

"And that is significant because..?"

"Because we otherwise could signal a passing ship."

"Can we not create some kind of sea faring vessel?"

Hermione was about to answer when the laughter from outside was abruptly silenced. They both got to their feet and pushed aside the screen, trying to see why their companions had stopped playing. She partly expected to see them kissing but they were standing still, covered in mud. "What's up?"

George shushed them abruptly. His posture indicating that he was listening to something intently. "I thought I heard voices."

Minerva grabbed Hermione's arm and thrust the younger woman behind her. She lifted her head also listening. The young woman could have sworn that she saw Minerva's ears swivel slightly as she strained to identify the sounds that George had heard.

"There is someone on the beach."

* * *

Holding onto Hermione's hand Minerva led them stealthily through the bushes and over the ground towards the beach, hissing at George for not being quiet enough. The young woman allowed herself to be pulled along, for some reason liking the new protectiveness that Minerva was showing towards her, although she didn't understand why the older woman would protect her but not the others.

Several minutes later Minerva pulled Hermione into a crouch behind a large rock. The young woman could feel the heat radiating from her companions body through their clothing and wondered for a moment why she was so aware of that fact.

Baring her teeth in a silent growl Minerva dropped Hermione's hand and put a restraining hand on the young witches shoulder, pressing her to the ground and then stood up, her posture was stiff as though she was ready to spring. Ready to battle any threat in order to protect the younger woman.

When Minerva caught sight of the cause of the noise she stopped abruptly. Lying wet, bedraggled and skinny on the shingle were Poppy and Rosmerta.

* * *

Minerva placed a hand briefly on Hermione's knee using it as a lever to lean in and whisper in the young woman's ear. "Thank you for cooking for them."

"My pleasure." Hermione looked at the two sleeping women in the wooden shelter that had been their own until today. She had missed some of their story while she had been gathering and preparing a hearty meal for the two starving women.

Rosmerta and Poppy had wolfed down the food, although the nurse had felt bound to tell them that they should have more vegetables in a balanced diet. After which they had crawled into the lean-to and fallen asleep in each others arms.

Hermione's hand rested on Minerva's lower back for a moment as she leaned in, "Do you think that they're... together?"

"It certainly appears that way."

"Were they... before all of this?"

"I do not believe so."

The young woman chuckled, shaking her head incredulously. "Are the Scottish Isles known as a romantic destination?"

"Not as such."

"Perhaps we should recommend it to the Tourism Board?"

It was Minerva's turn to chuckle. Hermione's hand left her back and the older woman felt its loss more than she would ever had admitted. She needed that contact, "Shall we retire to bed?" Minerva stood and offered Hermione her hand, smiling as it was immediately grasped.

They snuggled up together in their shelter, Hermione smiled into the darkness as she listened to Minerva's cultured tones as the older witch explained what had befallen the other women since the battle of Hogwarts.

* * *

_Rosmerta and Poppy had awoken on a tiny desolate island, they had spent time remembering the friends that they had lost. Driven by thirst they had gone in search of fresh water but had not found it. Days had passed with their only means of survival being rainfall. They had no rabbits and the shoreline was too high and rocky to make fishing easy. With little food or water the two women were struggling to stay alive._

_Rosmerta had found an old rotting wooden punt underneath a tangle of brambles. Knowing that the disintegrating wood was their only chance of survival, she began the difficult process of making it seaworthy with neither tools nor materials._

_As the days passed she watched as the woman she had come to deeply care about grew weaker. Eventually they had no choice and had entrusted their fate to the rotting remains of a boat and a fickle tide._

_A tide that had brought them into a shallow bay where the boat began to sink. The rough icy waters had battered them as they tried to cling to floating debris, somehow they had managed to make it to shore before they collapsed at the feet of the last person they had ever expected to see – Minerva McGonagall._


	4. Chapter 4

**Authors Note: Dedicated as always to my muse - 9 weeks 5 days until we meet again.**

Poppy rubbed the handful of crushed berries against her forearm. "Now we will leave that for twelve hours and if there is no irritation to the skin, we can begin trials to determine if they are edible."

Five pairs of eyes looked from the stain on the nurses skin, to the untouched berries piled up on the ground next to her. Neither looked particularly appetising, something that must have shown on their faces because Poppy quickly spoke again. "There is not enough variety in our diet, once winter comes I can assure you that you will grateful for my foresight."

With an expression of distaste Hermione nodded in agreement, knowing that Poppy was right but was desperately hoping that the berries were either toxic or tasted better than they looked. She picked up a handful of the next type of berry and rubbed them into her own skin, wanting to set a good example. She inwardly wondered if Rosmerta could make something more appetising out if the fruit, rather than simply drying them in preparation for the winter.

"How are we going to test the grains?"

George's question broke the silence and even Poppy looked towards Hermione with a shrug and once again the survival of the whole group rested upon her eighteen year old shoulders. "Uh... well I don't know for sure but I think that if we manage to grind them into a paste we will be able to test them the same way as the berries."

"I know how to make a mortar and pestle." Everyone turned to face Luna who smiled dreamily. "Sometimes my father and I would make our own ingredients in the muggle way, magic scares off lattisal's."

"O...k..." Hermione nodded.

"Is there a way that we can make stew without a cooking pot?"

Hermione looked at Minerva, "In theory if heated stones are dropped into a hole full of water and stuff – it should boil and cook the food."

"We would need spoons."

"Leave that to me." George followed Luna into the brush, looking for wood to carve and for some privacy with Luna.

Poppy and Rosmerta soon made their excuses and also retreated into the woods. Amused emerald green eyes caught Hermione's gaze "I get the suspicion that we were in the way."

"They merely wanted a little privacy. Despite the stonework on the shelters they are definitely not soundproof."

"Yes I recall." The dry observation was so characteristic of Professor McGonagall that the young woman had to smile, a smile that faded and was replaced by something else.

There was a pause before Minerva recognised the expression on Hermione's face. She knew from experience that her former student was about to ask a question, or more likely a series of questions. "I have read theories postulating why wands are necessary but there is no history about how they were created or why."

"Such books are not even kept in the restricted section at Hogwarts, nor would you find them in Diagon Alley."

"What about in Knockturn Alley?"

"Still doubtful."

"Where would I find one?"

"In the Ministry Archives and I have one in my private collection."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, "And how did you become so privileged?"

"My father wrote the most recent book on the subject."

"Can you tell me about it?"

Minerva raised her head as she realised that the distance between them and the cavorting couples did nothing to mask the sounds that they were making. "Shall we talk as we walk?" With a grateful grin Hermione stood up and took the older womans proffered hand.

"Wands are both a blessing and a curse Hermione. Wizards invented them to enable magic to be focussed enough for all of them to be able to use it whenever they wished. Prior to that time magic was an unfettered thing, fully controlled by few, immensely powerful but with a huge propensity for accidents to happen.

Like the uncontrollable magic of children it was not immensely useful and had the tendency to erupt unbidden at the worst times. Most magic users could only manage the most simple of charms, complex magics were completely unheard of. Transfiguration for example was considered fiction which is why alchemy was practiced for so many years.

The greatest witches and wizards at the time discovered that certain types of wood could be magically enhanced to provide a tool with which to channel magic. All new witches and wizards were indoctrinated into the 'new' magic and the older skills were forgotten."

Hermione grinned at her mentor; the older woman had her hands folded behind her back and was walking back and forth clearly absorbed in her subject. "Wandless magic has more similarity to elf magic than it does the magic we teach at Hogwarts."

* * *

The lecture continued.

* * *

Hermione held the slender twig in her hand, days of careful witling had afforded her something that looked like a wand. She held it tightly in her hand and with a determined look on her face she whispered the incantation for a simple charm.

The rock that she was focussing on quivered and lifted off of the ground by a few inches. After only a second the rock dropped with a crash and her thin wand shattered as it backfired with an almighty bang.

Hermione cried out as intense pain shot through her hand and up her arm, overwhelming her senses. She dropped to her knees cradling her rapidly numbing hand, watching as her blood began to pool on the ground between her legs.

Instinct began to re-assert itself as Hermione staggered back into a standing position. Her wounds were full of splinters and jagged lumps of wood, she couldn't stop the bleeding without causing more damage. Her only thought was to wash it in fresh water, with that in mind she headed towards the stream.

* * *

Minerva leaned her head back into the water feeling the current wash the dirt and debris from her long black tresses. She had tried to keep her hair from tangling by keeping it in its bun but obviously it hadn't worked. Tentatively she pushed her fingers through the locks and began to separate the knots gingerly.

It was several minutes later that the professor heard uneven footsteps moving in her direction. Hurriedly she moved to the side of the pool in the river, hiding her naked body from view of the interloper. Squinting without her glasses it took Minerva a moment to identify Hermione staggering towards her holding a bloody hand protectively against her body.

Without pausing to think the older woman pulled herself out of the pool and ran towards her young friend. Reaching Hermione in a few short heartbeats, she took the young womans wrist in both of her hands, examining the wound intently.

Hermione remained mute, scarcely able to breathe and had completely forgotten about her injury. She could only stare open mouthed at the vision before her, Minerva McGonagall was standing in front of her, seemingly unaware of her nudity.

Long dark hair was unbound, hanging over her shoulders – Hermione found her eyes being drawn lower by the drops of water that made their way down her torso. A chocolate gaze devoured Minerva's rounded breasts and erect nipples as they hardened in reaction to the cold air. The droplets of water continued their inexorable journey, attracting Hermione's attention once again.

Hermione took a deep breath, sighing slightly as she admired a flat well defined stomach, the subtle curve of her hips. That damming drop of water continued downwards, sliding into damp ebony curls and disappearing from view. The young woman began to hyperventilate before averting her eyes from the temptation on display in front of her.

"It does not look serious Hermione. Try not to worry."

She led the young woman to the side of the pool and leaned in close once again. Minerva gently clasped Hermione's wrist and eased it into the water watching in concern as the young woman grimaced. Her worry was apparent because Hermione tried to reassure her, "It just stings."

Minerva's hand squeezed the young woman's wrist in appreciation.

Hermione tried not to let her eyes linger on the swell of Minerva's breasts that were dangerously close to her own body as the two women knelt next to each other. She couldn't stop herself from looking but her conscience told her that it was rude to stare – no matter how alluring the view.

The older woman turned to look at Hermione's face, she was concerned about the young woman's behaviour, there was something odd about it that she couldn't put her finger on. As she swivelled around her bare breast brushed against the young womans arm.

Hermione yelped and violently leapt away from the older witch. That was a mistake. They both overbalanced and fell headfirst into the pool with a mighty splash.

* * *

"Hold still for Merlin's sake!" Minerva hissed in irritation. She was delicately trying to insert one of her slender claws under the last splinter in Hermione's trembling hand.

"I am trying Minerva." The rebuke in the young womans voice tugged at Minerva's heart and she lifted emerald eyes to tenderly meet tearful chocolate ones.

"I am sorry." Allowing her hand to morph back into its human shape the older woman raised it to gently caress Hermione's cheek fleetingly. Lowering her hand once again, she frowned in concentration trying to extend a single claw. Almost painfully her fingers curled at the knuckles, moulding into the skin of her palm. Erupting from the stretched skin of what had been her middle finger joint was a claw, razor sharp and wickedly curved the talon was a fearsome weapon.

Hermione took Minerva's hand in her uninjured one, turning it over to examine the sheathed claws and soft pink pads. The older woman giggled helplessly, "That tickles."

"Sorry." The young witch apologetically caressed the striped fur that covered Minerva's...paw. "You're really getting the hang of these animagus traits."

"Sometimes I feel more cat than human."

"How so?" The only answer from Minerva was a shake of her elegant head.

Green eyes focussed intently on the splinter buried underneath layers of Hermione's skin. "I am going to have to make an incision to get that out." She lowered the claw to make a cut watching the young woman wince as she sliced through her flesh.

"Ouch!"

After hooking the tip of her claw underneath the splinter Minerva grasped it with the fingers of her other hand.

"Ow... again."

"Sorry Hermione."

Once again Minerva climbed out of the pool, this time giving the young woman a completely uninhibited view of her backside and the shadowed area between her legs. When she returned with torn strips from her robe she gave Hermione a quizzical look.

"What are you staring at?"

"Just wondering if you generally prance around naked?"

Minerva looked down at her body and flushed. "To tell you the truth, I had completely forgotten."

"I don't mind." Hermione flushed at her own comment and there was an odd silence between them for a moment before Minerva lowered herself back into the water. The young woman couldn't tear her gaze away from the expanse of pale skin on display as Minerva leaned closer and began to bandage her hand.

Minutes later Minerva reluctantly pulled back. Hermione lowered her gaze to her own form and plucked at her wet, dirty shirt. "You could take your clothes off in order to wash them."

Brown eyes met teasing green ones and Hermione grinned. Her own chocolate gaze turned from amused to daring as her uninjured hand grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled the garment upwards.

Minerva's mouth dropped open as she watched the slow emergence of creamy skin that was revealed to her hungry gaze. And then it stopped. Slightly muffled by the fabric over her face Hermione's voice was a little sheepish, "Um...Minerva...?"

"Yes dear?"

"I'm...... stuck."

The older woman couldn't help it, she erupted into fits of laughter.

"That isn't helping!" Hermione growled. She couldn't free herself with only one hand and it was rather embarrassing.

"That my dear, is what you get for trying to act sexy."

"You started it!"

"Mmmm... yes I did."

Minerva sidled closer, one arm going around the young woman to free her shirt at the back – helping Hermione to slide the garment over her head. As she eased it over the young woman's injured hand she noticed not only a gorgeous figure but was also suddenly aware of their proximity.

Wide chocolate eyes looked up into emerald orbs so close to her own...

Slowly they moved even closer...

Hermione's full lips parted, glistening after a nervous tongue flicked across them...

Emerald eyes darkened...

Minerva's full breasts brushed against Hermione's...

They both gasped at the sensation...

Closer still...

Their eyes closed...

Soft lips met in the merest whisper of a kiss...

They both pulled back, initially not daring to open their eyes, dreading the though that they would see regret or disgust on the other persons face. Hermione felt Minerva's soft breath on her face, coming in uneven waves.

"Minerva?"

The older woman opened her eyes, looking at the half smile that was on the young brunettes face. "Open your eyes Hermione." She watched as lids lifted revealing pools of emotional chocolate brown.

There were no recriminations in the eye contact that they shared, it was full of an intense emotion that neither woman was ready to name. Hermione's voice was extremely soft, "That was... unexpected." She wondered if Minerva knew that she was prevaricating.

A smirk crossed Minerva's lips, "No... it was not."

"Is this where you tell me that... _this _is a result of our situation, that it isn't real... it isn't..."

Minerva stopped the young womans rising hysteria by placing a finger on Hermione's lips. "No I am not going to tell you that, I could never lie to you but my feelings are complicated." She brushed her finger tenderly against the soft skin of Hermione's cheek, "They are in conflict with everything that I have ever been taught, everything that I believe in."

There was a pause before Minerva physically withdrew from Hermione after one final caress. "Hermione... I just need some time to think. Please give me that."

How could the young witch do anything but comply with Minerva's wishes? Hermione sighed. "In the meantime I'll be here for you... whatever you need you only have to ask... you know that don't you?"

"I know 'Mione."

"I like that."

"Hmmm?"

"You giving me a nickname."

Minerva's eyes lit up as she smiled. After a moment her gaze frantically began to search the grass beside the stream and her smile faded.

"What's wrong Minerva?"

"I left my hairpins at the edge of the pool."

Hermione followed Minerva's gaze – there was only one silver pin in the grass. She looked down at the fast moving water, realising that she had knocked them into the water. "Ooops."

"Oooops? What am I supposed to do with my hair now?"

There was a smirk, "I guess you'll have to wear it down."

Minerva snarled in response to Hermione's answer, revealing pointed teeth. "This is not amusing."

"It looks wonderful though." The snarl softened and Minerva couldn't help but smile.


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors Note: Sorry about the delay folks, I'm working an 80 hour week so updates will be fairly intermittant. This chapter takes place over a short period of time and is set a few weeks after the last update.**  
**On another subject - in just less than 3 weeks I will be back in the states with the woman I love. While we're together we are going to continue 'One Last Night' in person - so look for the updates on that in a month.**

* * *

Hermione awoke with a start, not realising at first what had disturbed her.

Moonlight filtered through the doorway that they had left open to let in the evening air. It provided enough illumination for her to see the inside of the shelter. Minerva was lying on her side sleeping, she was alternating a low purr with little yips, her arms and legs were making rapid movements. Hermione grinned, it was just like trying to sleep with Crookshanks when he was having a dream.

Sneakily she reached out and ran her fingers down the length of Minerva's spine, watching as the animagus arched into her touch and her purr became louder.

Hermione didn't realise how long she had been stroking Minerva until a sleepy drawl disturbed her. "Is there a reason you decided to caress me in the middle of the night?"

The young woman overreacted, pulling her hand away as if she had placed it on a hot stove. "I'm so sorry... I shouldn't have..."

Minerva rolled onto her back and reached out to Hermione, taking her hand and placing it on her own stomach. "I did not say that I minded." She said it with a chuckle trying to convey her sincerity.

"You didn't?"

"I merely inquired as to why?"

"You were dreaming." Minerva frowned in silent question, "Whimpering and making running motions with your arms and legs."

The older woman groaned and rolled her eyes. "More animagus traits taking over?"

"I suspect so."

"I am noticing more manifesting themselves every day."

"Does that anger you?" The young woman detected an odd note in the educated tones of her mentor.

"That my body is doing _things _without my permission? Surprisingly no, I find it oddly...reassuring."

"That might be a result of the changes you are undergoing."

"Mmmmm."

Several minutes passed in silence.

"Hermione?"

"Mmmmm?"

"Go back to sleep."

Hermione looked into Minerva's eyes, almost as though asking permission to come closer. Since their admission of mutual attraction things had been a little strained, neither sure of where the defining limits of their relationship were. Wordlessly the older woman opened her arms to the younger, who snuggled into her embrace.

* * *

"Most witches and wizards are capable of performing simple charms without a wand. I suggest that we all begin with those when practicing."

"Minerva, charms are useful but we really need more powerful magics right now."

"There has to be a place to start Rosmerta."

Hermione gritted her teeth, clenching her right hand tightly she felt the wounds from her last experiment with magic burn anew. _Simple charms huh? _"Wingardium Leviosa!" A small piece of firewood rose from the ground and floated in the air under her control.

"Well done Hermione, keep your focus."

_Why was it easier to do it without a wand than with a makeshift one? _The answer came to Hermione suddenly in a flash of inspiration and she understood what Minerva had been trying to tell her. Conducting magic through a wand was like trying to force a waterfall through a firehose, using a substandard wand was like trying to force the same waterfall through a drinking straw – no wonder her experiment hadn't worked.

As soon as she realised that not having a wand freed her mind to utilise all of her magic in a single act she closed her eyes. The branch lifted higher, unbeknownst to Hermione it rose until it could barely be seen. Large rocks in the clearing began to lift off of the ground unbidden, trees started to shake themselves free of their roots.

Startled and afraid everyone but Minerva ran out of the clearing. The older witch stepped closer to the young woman, close enough to whisper in her ear. "Hermione, I need you to very calmly open your eyes."

Obediently chocolate eyes opened to see the amazing sight around her, while it was astonishing it was also very scary to behold. As fear gripped the young woman the objects began to waver. "Relax."

"I can't!"

"Do not drop any of those objects!" It was Professor McGonagall who spoke, not Minerva and Hermione responded by stabilising the flotsam. "Well done."

"I..." The young woman stopped speaking, not sure what she had been about to say.

Minerva reached out and put a hand on Hermione's shoulder. Though intended as a comforting gesture it was far more than that, the instant that the older woman made contact with her there was a flash of light.

The floating objects soared higher in a surge of power, flying so high that they vanished from sight. Shocked Hermione turned to face her mentors gaze and as their concentration was broken the magic stopped. Whistling through the air boulders crashed back to earth, destroying the firepit and shattering several trees.

Hermione grabbed and held the older womans hand, wide-eyed surveyed the damage and their close call. "What happened?"

"I have no idea."

* * *

George whimpered in confusion, not sure that he had heard the nurse correctly. "What...?"

"Come now Mr Weasley, surely you must have realised that your behaviour could have consequences?"

"Yes...but..."

He was staring at her with a strange expression on his face. "George?"

"For a moment you sounded just like my mother." He just managed to choke out the whole sentence before bursting into tears. The no-nonsense nurse pulled him into a hug and held the young man silently while he sobbed his loss and grief.

Luna joined them, wrapping her arms around both her friend and the man she had come to love. Words would have been meaningless and so she said nothing.

* * *

Hermione walked around the large rocks that hid the shore from her view, her mind was being consumed with questions about what she had been able to make happen the day previously. She chuckled as she realised that sheer power and ability were not qualities she lacked but she would need to learn control before even attempting the complex magic that would enable them to end their exile.

Hunting for driftwood the young woman had not noticed that Minerva was sitting cross-legged on the shore. It was only when she heard an exasperated growl and the sound of a rock hitting the ground that she finally spotted the older woman. She lowered her bundle to the ground and walked towards the stunningly attractive witch.

_Stunning was the right description. _Minerva had her eyes closed, palms resting on her knees. Pale skin glowed in the light of the setting sun. Long unbound hair shone, greying strands glittered almost like tinsel and the gentle evening breeze stirred her tresses. Without opening her eyes Minerva spoke, "What are you staring at Hermione?"

The young woman moved closer, her answer a whisper. "You."

Startled emerald eyes opened and looked at her, a brilliant smile lit up her face in response to the obvious sincerity in the young witches voice. "Why thank you Miss Granger."

"You sounded a little frustrated?"

"I am attempting to transfigure this rock into a cooking pot. The attempt is not going well. The rock refuses to co-operate."

Hermione remained silent for a moment knowing that the admission was extremely hard for the former professor. "And you chose..."

"...A rock with an iron core, yes."

"I see... Perhaps you require a break Minerva?"

"Perhaps."

"Will you have dinner with me?"

Minerva smiled coyly, "Are you asking me on a date?"

"Perhaps." They both laughed, a joyous sound that filled the quiet evening with an emotion akin to hope.

* * *

Hermione dropped another piece of firewood onto the bonfire. The flickering light was a wonderful counterpoint to the almost romantic evening that they had been having. She stopped and looked over at the older woman, thinking that she was even more stunning by firelight.

Minerva had her long legs stretched out in front of her, one pale thigh carelessly exposed by the slit she had made in her robes to make it easier for her to work in their exile. Hermione found herself entranced by the sight and like a moth drawn to a flame she returned to the older woman.

An impulse led her to sit between Minerva's legs, scooching backwards so that she could lean against the older witches torso. Despite her surprise Minerva's arms wrapped around Hermione's stomach tightly.

Lips brushed against soft young skin as the former professor whispered in Hermione's ear. "Comfortable?"

"Very."

Minerva chuckled and nuzzled her neck. "As am I."

* * *

Meanwhile

"I win!"

"Sssssh Rosmerta."

The exiled landlady lowered her voice but still gloated at her companions' misfortune. "I bet that they would be getting all snugly and there they are! Pay up!"

Two pairs of slightly grubby hands stretched out and shoved items at her. With a huge grin she thrust fish jerky and a carved wooden spoon into her pocket before looking expectantly at her lover. Poppy leaned in closer in order to whisper directly into her ear, "I'll give you my forfeit later."

Luna giggled at the shocked look of hormone-fuelled anticipation on Rosmerta's face.

* * *

Wandlessly summoning the rock that had so frustrated Minerva, Hermione swore aloud as it painfully hit the tips of her fingers before dropping onto her lap. Tenderly the older woman examined them before gently kissing the purpling flesh.

The brunette smiled, "How is it that you are always tending my wounds?"

"Someone needs to look after you love."

"And you want the job?" Hermione was asking a simple question but was hinting at a far deeper one – a question that the older woman was not yet ready to answer, despite her unconscious use of the word love.

Minerva paused for a long moment. "...Hermione..."

"I was only talking about kissing my boo-boo's better."

"No you were not, at least not entirely."

"I didn't mean to push you. I can understand how hard this must be for you... to admit... that you... with a former pupil."

One of Minerva's lips curled in a slight smirk, "I have admitted how I feel about you Hermione. It is more a matter of convincing myself that it is not wrong to act on those feelings... those desires."

"Are you making progress?" Eyelashes fluttered as she liberally dropped a hint.

"As time passes it becomes easier."

A brilliant relieved smile lit up the young witches face, "I'm glad."

"As am I." They chuckled again, before drawing silent. One of Minerva's hands left Hermione's stomach and rested on the rock, a soft frustrated growl sounded in the still air as she remembered her fruitless afternoon.

Hermione was remembering her attempt to master wandless charms, remembered how power had rushed through her when Minerva had touched her skin and in another moment of clarity she spoke. "Try again."

"But I..."

"Please... for me..?"

There was a barely audible sigh before Minerva spoke the words that would turn the rock into a useful cooking vessel. It was useless, she knew that it was useless and as a master in her field it was a hard admission to make even to herself.

She could feel the structure within the rock, could feel it resist the changes that she tried to force upon it, pushing harder – trying and failing to get the degree of focuss required for such advanced magic, she knew that failure was imminent. A hand rose to cup the side of Minerva's face, turning emerald eyes to meet Hermione's chocolate gaze.

"Look into my eyes."

The intimate gaze, the softness of Hermione's palm on her face and the huskiness of her voice all served to distract the older woman from any thoughts of failure. Minerva felt a rush of youthful power rush through her body and mind. Both women began to tremble violently – the contact was more intimate than sex, more powerful than any emotion either had ever experienced.

Shaking they held each other tightly, Transfiguration all but forgotten as they felt their magic begin to unite, to merge into something greater. After a few moments the young woman lept up brushing the lap of her ripped jeans frantically. "Hermione are you alright?"

"Fine, just a little hot."

Wryly Minerva responded, "You are not the only one."

Hermione giggled, "Um... no... the rock erm heated up and was burning me."

"Oh... OH!" The older witch groaned as she realised her misinterpretation and what she had just admitted.

To give Minerva time to stop blushing Hermione turned her gaze towards the rock. "Not that you don't have that effect on me too but..." She cut off mid-sentence and gasped the older woman's name, "Look." Lying on the ground before them was an iron cooking pot with two handles – the exact thing that they had wanted to create.

Joyful eyes met and Hermione threw herself into the older womans arms. "We did it!" Minerva was as happy as she was, twirling the young witch around in her arms before kissing her soundly.

* * *

Several days later

Minerva awoke in an irritable mood. Her skin felt as though it was itchy and tight, her throat was dry and she felt rather overheated – it was almost as though she was coming down with a bug. She rubbed at her limbs hoping to dispel the odd sensation but to no avail – a restless feeling.

She tossed from side to side for a few minutes before she heard Hermione's breathing change rhythm and realised that she was disturbing the younger woman's sleep. So she slipped from the bed and out of the shelter into the pre-dawn darkness.

The cool air felt good on Minerva's skin, invigorating and refreshing. She looked up at the stars and exhaled as she stretched. An almost feral grin spread across her features, she felt better than she had in years – more alive, more vital. Energy pulsed through her body, making her eager to do something physical. It was that thought that drew her gaze towards the shelter... towards Hermione. Shaking her head she tried to mentally retreat to safer ground.

The stretch had revealed that despite the slit in her robes, she needed looser clothing to run. Almost without thought she transfigured the garment into black jeans and a green shirt, she never realised that they were patterned on the tattered garments that Hermione still wore. She stretched once again relishing the freedom of movement and the feel of the fabric against her skin.

Barefoot she leapt into a run, making her way towards the beach.

* * *

Hermione awoke in an irritable mood. Not only had the previous evening been a long one but grappling with unfamiliar magics had left her with a headache. There was the added fact that Minerva was not beside her – where the older woman belonged.

She rolled off of the pallet and pulled on her jeans. Low voices were audible from the firepit and the smell of roasting fish filled the air. Hermione pulled a face, she was starting to hate the taste of fish but she left the shelter in search of breakfast.

"Mornin'"

A grunt was the young woman's response to the greeting. Her eyes sought Minerva but couldn't see the older witch anywhere. "Where's Minerva?"

Four pairs of eyes met incredulously, Hermione was not acting normally – the rude behaviour was completely uncharacteristic. With a frown Poppy spoke, "We haven't seen her this morning."

"Well she's not in the shelter, so where is she?"

"Perhaps she went for a walk Hermione."

The young woman growled but settled down beside the cooking fire, ignoring the curious looks that her friends directed at her and grabbed a hunk of fish.

Almost half an hour passed in stilted silence before Minerva McGonagall walked over the rise and towards them all. The woman exuded an almost palpable air of energy, she practically bounced as she made her way across the rough terrain.

Hermione's eyes widened. She knew that Minerva had a gorgeous slender body – having seen her naked after all but to see her in muggle clothing... was breathtaking. The long sleeves of her shirt were rolled up revealing tanned, toned arms. Long shapely thighs were highlighted by the tight denim jeans she wore. Her feet were bare and long ebony tresses were stirred by the breeze. She looked relaxed, in much the same way as a somnolent predator.

Lazily the older woman practically floated across the clearing and sat next to Hermione. Grabbing some food she lay down with her head in the young witches lap and began to gnaw on the overcooked piece of fish. To say that jaws had dropped would have been an understatement, the other two couples couldn't take their eyes off of the two women.

Hermione had completely relaxed at the moment Minerva had touched her. Her headache had gone and the curious tension she had awoken with that morning dissipated. One hand unconsciously slid into ebony tresses, causing a low purr to resonate in the older womans chest.

"Erm... Minerva?"

"Poppy?"

"What's with the clothes?"

"I needed some freedom to move."

Hermione felt her nostrils flare as an aroma rose from the older womans body; something more than the other womans natural scent, something different than sweat, something musky that was extremely appealing.

Minerva's eyes were closed, enjoying the caress. She proceeded to focus all of her attention on the gentle fingers that were massaging her scalp. She paid no attention at all to the stares and comments that were being directed at her. The comments were all very complimentary, based on her relaxed state and her clothing.

No one noticed the subtle shaking of Hermione's free hand that was curled into a fist at her side. The young womans tension increased greatly with every word and it got to be far too much in a very short space of time.

George was the next to speak, "Damn Minerva, I never knew that you had a figure like that. You look..."

The young man never got the chance to finish his sentence. Hermione had abruptly risen to her feet and stalked across the bare ground towards him. Her famous right hook impacted his face in an abrupt violent reaction. "You got your woman pregnant, stay the hell away from mine." She snarled at him showing even teeth in a threatening gesture.

For the umpteenth time that morning everyone around the fire were shocked by the young brunettes' actions. They cast expectant gazes on Minerva expecting the famously strict former professor to chide her paramour but she did not. The animagus was nonchalantly licking the fish juices from her hands before using them to clean her face.

George raised a hand to his nose and gingerly touched it with a wince. Blood covered his fingers and broke through Hermione's fugue. "God George I didn't mean to... I don't know what came over me." Completely horrified and ashamed at her behaviour the young woman ran into her shelter.

Eyes turned again to Minerva who had finished cleaning her 'whiskers' and was now biting at her nails. She paused and raised disinterested emerald green orbs to meet their collective gaze, "What?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Authors Note: Sorry about the huge delay folks. I have been working a lot and just haven't been motivated enough to write my existing stories. However lately I have been writing more; working on the next chapter of this already and am almost finished a VERY long AU one-shot.**

* * *

Minerva luxuriated in the feel of fresh water running over her naked body. There was a place on the far end of the island where a small stream cascaded over rocks, it provided her with a personal shower in a place where only she was agile enough to go.

Nimble fingers followed the path of the water, sliding across her wet skin. She loved the coldness of the water as it lowered her elevated body temperature. She threw her head back imagining that the sensation was caused by another... by Hermione. Unable to resist temptation her fingers slid lower into moist folds as she sought to relieve her tension.

* * *

"I can't believe you have me doing this Ros, there's a load of things I could be doing."

Rosmerta looked up with a grin, "I guarantee this will improve morale."

"Hmmm." The nurse was not convinced but willing to accede to the wishes of her lover.

"Brewing is just like potions..."

Poppy smirked, momentarily distracted by the buxom barmaids attempt to get her interested in the project. "O...K... fine but afterwards we are going to find out what the hell is going on with Hermione and Minerva."

"No... Afterwards we are going to make love and then worry about the two of them." Intense eye contact followed that prediction and they both laughed.

Poppy dropped the sticky overripe fruit into the metal barrel that Hermione had made Rosmerta the previous evening. She loved watching the look of concentration on lovely features, the slight frown between shaped brows, the way that a pink tongue slightly protruded from between luscious lips...

"Poppy concentrate!"

Forcing her mind back to the task at hand the chagrined nurse blushed and took up a stick to stir the concoction. No matter their discipline it was always a pleasure to watch a master at work.

* * *

Hermione meanwhile was sitting on the rough bed that she shared with Minerva.

_What on Earth has gotten into you?_

Her reaction to George had been completely uncalled for, all he had done after all was complement Minerva. They had all loved the new look that the older woman wore, the energy that she had been exuding.

Wheels were beginning to turn in Hermione's brain but she didn't have enough information to come to a conclusion yet. There was only one place that she could get that data, she needed to find Minerva.

Tentatively she stepped out of the shelter, not really wanting to see any of the others after she had embarrassed herself so thoroughly. Luckily there was not a single person to be seen, the weak sun had failed to burn off the morning mist and served to hide her as she slipped out of the camp.

Perhaps the moisture in the mist allowed Hermione to pick up the scent of Minerva or perhaps it was the new familiarity between the two women but whatever the reason, the scent led the young woman straight to the animagus.

* * *

"Hermione." The single word was not a question but more a growl of acknowledgement.

Drawn by an irresistible urge, by an irrepressible instinct, Hermione knelt behind Minerva resting her body against the older womans back. A moan escaped unbidden from the lips of the animagus, as she felt the luscious curves pressing into her.

A young hand calloused by hard labour caressed Minerva's neck, pushing long dark hair aside to expose delicate skin. Hungry lips began to suckle on the tender flesh, as hands began to roam; sliding down Minerva's arms and around her body to cup full breasts. Fingers began to tease hardened nipples.

"Oh... Hermione... stop..." Minerva's plea was half-hearted.

"I can't." The two words were muffled against the older woman's skin. "I don't know why but I can't stop." Her hips slowly ground against Minerva's back suggestively.

"Neither can I." It was an exasperated growl, laced with unresolved sexual tension. One of her hands grabbed the back of Hermione's head, tilting her own to make contact with the young womans lips in a fiery kiss.

There was an amused cough from behind them and with difficulty they pulled apart to see that they had an audience.

"Oh god George!" Even though Hermione was panting for breath, she still managed to convey her genuine regret for the swollen, bruised mess she had made of his nose. "I have no idea what came over me."

Poppy's lip curled in a smirk as she observed the way that the two women were still entangled. "I think that I may have an answer."

They both growled, not liking the tone in the nurse's voice.

"Hermione you speculated that Minerva's animagus form was beginning to... for lack of a better term, bleed over into her human form. This allowed her to display cat-like traits on demand..."

"Your point?"

"Over the past few weeks Minerva; the grey has begun to recede from your hair, you have gotten stronger and fitter than you have ever been... It seems that the changes are physiological, rather than manifestations of a trait."

"Stop beating around the bush and tell me what you are rambling about!"

"Minerva, I believe that you are experiencing a hormonal imbalance – affecting not only you but also Hermione and all of us to a lesser extent."

Hermione stood, "Does that mean that what I am feeling isn't real?" Tears were threatening to fall from chocolate eyes.

"No, that's not what I am saying. Minerva's 'imbalance' will only have been affecting you for a few days – whatever you were feeling before that will remain unchanged."

"What are you talking about... hormonal imbalance?" The ebony haired witch pulled Hermione into her arms to comfort her.

The nurse took a deep breath.

"I think that you are in heat."

"**I'm whut?"**

* * *

Hermione couldn't sleep.

She was curled up on her side facing the wall of the shelter. Minerva was as far away as she could possibly get, also lying on her side and facing the opposite wall. They had not spoken since Poppy voiced her hypothesis, neither knowing what to say, neither knowing what they should say. The older woman had been tossing and turning throughout the night, letting out the occasional moan.

The young woman had managed to keep herself from leaping on Minerva by sheer willpower and it was taking a great deal of effort to feign sleep. Obviously she was a better actress than she thought.

A distinctive sound broke the silence – it was the quiet, stealthy sliding down of a zip.

Hermione's eyes shot open in sudden realisation.

Another sound... the rustling noise of a hand being forced into a pair of jeans.

The young witch swallowed, scarcely daring to breathe as she heard a muffled gasp from Minerva. It was closely followed by a moan of pleasure. Hermione closed her eyes again unsure what she should do but she knew that Minerva needed the release. There was nothing she could do but wait until the older woman was finished. It was torture.

* * *

An indeterminate amount of time passed, Hermione still staring into the darkness unable to ignore the sounds that Minerva was making. Pleasured noises gave way to frustrated whimpers and growls. Jeans rustled once again as they were unceremoniously shoved down and the blanket that Minerva threw off of herself hit Hermione.

The young woman rolled onto her side knowing that the older witch would be oblivious to her movement. She was watching the frantic movements of Minerva's arm, listening to the frustrated noises. It was only when the ebony haired witch began to cry that Hermione moved once again.

She shuffled closer listening to despairing sobs from only a few feet away, hearing the sheer need in the womans voice when she whispered Hermione's name. The young witch closed the remaining inches between them pressing her body against Minerva's.

The animagus froze.

Hermione had a moment of uncertainty, she was pressed against a half-naked woman who despite uttering her name – had certainly not invited her touch. She forced her hand not to tremble as it traced a slow, languid path down Minerva's arm.

Still the older witch was lying stiff and silent.

Youthful fingers brushed Minerva's aside and slid across soaking wet curls, marvelling as the other woman violently arched up into her hand. The sheer degree of Minerva's arousal was obvious, she could smell it, could feel the hard erect clitoris brushing against her palm as her fingers explored further. The animagus had not even taken a breath since Hermione's first touch and she finally inhaled with a strangled gasp, giddy from either arousal or a lack of oxygen.

Instinct took over and the brunette knew exactly what Minerva needed, how to satisfy her heat induced craving. Extremely lubricated fingers parted swollen folds and slid _inside_.

"...Her...Mi...meerrowl."

Hermione began a pumping gesture with her hand, thrusting into Minerva's centre – feeling muscles grip fingers tightly, pulling her deeper inside. Faster and faster the brunette let herself be led by the older witch's reactions, knowing that it was the cat within Minerva that needed sating rather than the woman.

Propping herself up on her free elbow Hermione leaned over and kissed her lover. Passionately she swallowed the cries uttered by the animagus, while increasing the depth and speed of her thrusting fingers. Minerva's hand grabbed the back of Hermione's head, tangling almost painfully in the riot of chestnut tresses – pulling her closer for a moment, returning the kiss with equal fervour.

Trembles began to course through Minerva's body as her heart began to pound even faster. Hermione could feel them, through the leg wrapped around Minerva's, and through the breasts pressed against her own. She pulled back, staring into wide almost black eyes with a gold ring around elongated pupils.

_Gold? _She filed the observation for future reference and concentrated on the task quite literally at hand.

Her thumb found an erect clit; pressing down on the bud with every thrust of her hand...

Minerva's hips began jerking upwards to meet Hermione's fingers...

Whimpers became loud cries...

The ebony haired witch convulsed with a high pitched yowl that could be heard the length and breadth of the island.

Hermione pressed comforting kisses to Minerva's collarbone, across her cheek and the side of her neck. She held the older woman in her arms, whispering sweet words in her ear until her breathing evened out and the trembling stopped.

The young witch shifted her thighs, conscious now of her own need.

"Minerva?"

There was no answer immediately and Hermione was about to speak again when she heard a loud snore from the woman beside her.

"Well shit!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Authors Note: Sorry about the delay in getting this finished, really haven't felt like writing lately - did start working on something really angsty because I'm in that mood. Next chapter of 'Seasons' is underway.  
This chapter starts the morning after the last one, so you may want to read that through first because it's been a while. Enjoy ;)**

* * *

Minerva awoke with the dawn, her first thought was that she was extremely cold. The second thing that registered was a pressure along her left side and a weight on her chest. She glanced down hurriedly realising that she was naked from the waist down, her trousers were crumpled around her ankles and the blanket was thrown in a corner. Hermione's head was on her chest in a mass of unruly curls.

She could smell the fading scent of her arousal, Hermione's arousal and...sex. _What have I done? _The exiled professor closed her eyes, making a wish that the events of the previous evening were some weird dream. Soft breathing washed over her body, stirring the hair between her legs – disrupting the illusion of normality that she was clinging too.

_What have I done?_

Gently, slowly she disentangled herself from Hermione's arms and slid out of their warm makeshift bed. Minerva was facing the wall fastening her jeans when the young woman spoke. "Don't leave!"

The ebony haired witch took her time as she straightened her appearance before turning back to Hermione. "I just... need time to think."

"So think here."

"Hermione..."

The brunette frowned, "Go then... but you can't avoid what happened."

Minerva had her hand on the door when she spun around. "We weren't ready for what happened last night Hermione." Two paces took her the width of the shelter and back again. "You shouldn't have..."

"Shouldn't have what? You were crying Minerva... sobbing and growling in frustration. Was I just supposed to leave you like that?"

"I wanted a choice in the matter."

Hermione paled, Minerva's words cutting her deeply. "A choice... how about my choice? I want you Minerva, I've never denied that but yesterday I... My reaction to you was something that I couldn't control. But I promise you that what happened last night was intended just to help you."

The older witch sighed, "I know. I'm sorry Hermione." She pressed both hands to her face, "You did help... I just... It feels as though I am not in control of my own body any longer. These cat traits are taking over."

Hermione grabbed Minerva's hand and pulled her onto the makeshift bed, "You aren't in heat now, it'll probably be months until it happens again."

"It's not only that Hermione... There are changes happening to me, Poppy was right about that."

"I see them but when I look at you I see You, Minerva McGonagall – not the receding grey in your hair, not the retreating wrinkles but you." Minerva looked at Hermione, her eyes suddenly bright in the dim light and the older woman leaned into the comforting embrace.

A few minutes passed in silence, the younger witch chuckled and broke the silence. "I have however **seen **the perkier breasts because I'm only human."

Minerva erupted into huge belly laughs at the comment.

"... And I'll still love you even if you grow a tail."

Hermione kissed the side of Minerva's face, running a tender hand over skin that was noticeably younger than it had been a few weeks previously. "Thank you Hermione, I needed to hear that." The young womans lips moved a little lower, brushing against the soft skin of her throat. Her touch was innocent and innocuous – at first.

The change in Hermione's breathing was enough to alert the older woman to her intentions. "Hermione, stop."

Plump lips trembled against Minerva's sensitive skin before withdrawing. "I..."

"I want you too."

"Then why...?"

"Later darling." Warmth sparkled in emerald eyes, "I want it to be right."

"How 'bout right now?" Frustration laced Hermione's voice as she uttered the rhetorical question.

* * *

Several hours later

"Engorgio." The log in front of Hermione shook as it minimally increased in size, the wandless magic was not giving her the control that she was used to. The charm was not working correctly and the log did not get as large as she wanted.

"**Engorgio." **With a whoosh of displaced air the bough increased in size a hundred-fold. It knocked the young witch onto her backside. Hermione looked up at the building sized log partly in awe and partly in frustration. "For the love of Merlin."

She picked herself up and brushed the dirt from her ample derriere. Minerva had managed to change her clothes with little effort or thought a few days earlier, Hermione was struggling to understand why she was finding this so hard.

Chocolate eyes narrowed as the brunette focussed all of her attention on the massive piece of wood. She began to sling hexes and curses at it while sobbing in frustration, it took her quite some time to realise that the strength and accuracy of her blasts had dramatially improved – despite the fact that she had not uttered a single incantation.

The witch paused, a thought suddenly occurring to her. Using a wand to channel magical energy also relied on the wizard using words to guide the intention behind the magic. She had been trying with limited success to use words without a wand but if she were to focus her thoughts without the restrictions imposed by using incantations... Hermione cut off that line of reasoning in mid-thought, knowing that even trying that kind of magic would be extremely dangerous. But what choice did she have?

Channelling the new animalistic Minerva, Hermione growled. Indecision would eventually get them killed and to defeat Voldemort they would need some kind of advantage. Her attempts to create replacement wands were not going well, "Screw it."

The scarred, dented wooden behemoth in front of her was the perfect size for a log cabin. Hollowing it out was not inherently dangerous but would require control on her part – a skill that she desperately needed to learn in order to keep her friends and the woman she loved alive. Focussing once more the young witch concentrated on what she needed to do.

* * *

Meanwhile

"Feeling better?" Poppy knew better than to let her amusement show, Rosmerta however was not as restrained – she snickered.

Minerva snarled but Rosmerta only laughed, it was fairly obvious that the animagus was not going to tear her throat out and so the snarl had lost its effectiveness.

"Ros." Poppy warned her lover, knowing that the more Minerva was teased – the less likely she would be to open up. "So...?"

"Yes, I... Is that likely to occur again?"

"Well I have had some time to formulate an opinion but without being able to research, it is just that – my opinion."

"Do not beat about the bush."

"I believe that you have recognised Hermione as your mate, correct?"

Emerald eyes narrowed, "Not quite how I would phrase it but yes."

"And you have been somewhat reticent in... consummating that relationship?"

A growl, "Yes."

"I believe that your animagus traits coming to the fore prompted your body to go into heat – to overcome that block."

"So you do not think it will happen again?"

"If that is right, no it will not. If you went into heat for another reason, well it may be another few months before your next heat cycle."

"Find a way to make it stop please Poppy."

"There is nothing that I can do Minerva you know that."

The ebony haired witch shocked both of her friends by bursting into tears. The emotions of the past few days had finally brought her to breaking point. Poppy took a step forward and wrapped skinny arms around her friend, letting her cry.

Minerva allowed herself a few moments of self-indulgence before she pulled away and retreated behind her walls. "I... I need your help. I have been very unfair to Hermione, I want to make it up to her."

"Whatever you need." It was Rosmerta who uttered the words but she spoke for all of them.

* * *

Later

A tired but elated Hermione walked into camp that evening, she had been concentrating so much that she had lost track of time and was clueless about what the others had been doing in her absence. All she wanted was something to eat, a cuddle from her woman and some sleep or at least the chance to unwind.

Her friends were all lounging around the fire, they were also looking rather tired but there was no food roasting on the spit or in the pans that she had made for them. Inwardly the young witch groaned before her eyes found the woman that she loved. Minerva was trying to portray the same casual appearance that the others were but there was a nervous energy about her as she stood up, emerald eyes not quite meeting chocolate ones.

"Care for a stroll?"

In that moment Hermione's doubts, her tiredness and her remaining frustration vanished. The idea of spending time with the ebony haired witch was so appealing that everything else went away. "Sure." She slipped her hand into the crook of Minerva's elbow and followed her away from the others heading in the direction of the beach.

"I was a complete arse this morning. I am sorry if I hurt you."

"It's ok, I understand why you went off the handle."

Understanding smiles were exchanged and they moved on past the awkwardness of the moment. "How was your day?" Laughing at the question Hermione proceeded to tell Minerva her new ideas about the wandless magic that they were using. For several minutes they tossed ideas back and forth before reaching the shore.

"What's that?" The younger witch could see a series of floating lights dancing on the thermals above a fire some distance down the beach.

An enigmatic smile crossed elegant features, "A surprise..."

"Really?"

"It occurred to me that I have never... wooed you and I fully intend to remedy that."

Hermione chuckled, "There's no need Minerva."

"I beg to differ young lady, now stop complaining and let me pamper you a little."

In the face of that Hermione could not answer, she was too busy smiling broadly. Minerva led her down the beach towards the small fire. When they got close the younger witch could see that there was a tent erected on the sparse grass.

"When did we get a tent?"

"I transfigured it out of my cloak."

Upon closer inspection, the fabric it was made of did have a muted tartan patterning. The flaps were held back by the silver clasps normally found at Minerva's throat. Peeking inside Hermione noticed that it was piled high with bracken and other soft bedding material. "Poppy foraged materials to make us the bed. Luna charmed the fairy lights. Ros provided some kind of beverage and George made that wonderful rabbit stew of his."

Full lips parted in a grin, it was obvious how much effort Minerva and by extension their friends had put into this... date. "Thank you."

"You are welcome my dear, now sit." Hermione sat in front of the fire, glad of the padding underneath her after a long day, the warmth of the flames also welcome in the evening chill. Minerva began to dish up the meal while the young woman watched the 'fairy lights'. Even Wandless Luna was very talented at Charms but Hermione could see where the enchantment had gone awry; some lights were floating in a relaxing manner, others were whirling around at speed, some were scarcely moving – dipping into the flames with each revolution.

Soon the comforting warmth of her former professor was next to her once again, Minerva handed her a plate of food. "Thanks... I love you."

The older witch chuckled, "I love you too my dear."

Hermione began to eat her meal with pleasure, it wasn't often that they ate meat – fish of course being far more plentiful on the island. George was getting better at cooking too, utilising what they had to make tasty food. He had outdone himself this time, the stew was extremely good.

A rough clay bottle was handed over. The young witch eyed it with some trepidation, the last homemade brew she had tried had been rather potent and tasted like... eeew. "She promises that this is better than the last one."

"Are you trying to use me as a guinea pig?"

An enigmatic smirk was Minerva's only response. With a mock-grimace Hermione tipped the bottle up and took a swig. A ghastly, vile flavour washed over her taste buds, before fire hit the back of her throat and nausea began to rise in her gullet. Sheer willpower kept pretty features schooled into a calm, almost thoughtful expression.

"It's certainly better than the last one, want to try?"

Minerva took the bottle and had a generous gulp of the liquid within. Within a second she had spat out the alcohol, there was fluid leaking out of her nose and her eyes were watering. Accusing emerald met laughing chocolate, it took the older witch some time to see the funny side and giggle.

* * *

Hermione settled herself more comfortably against the log, thrilling inside when Minerva's arm wrapped around her shoulders. "Am I forgiven?" She looked up into her... partners face, smiling coquettishly.

Minerva smirked and moved a little closer, "I think that I could be... persuaded."

"Oh you could...?"

"Mmmm." The older witch lowered her face to Hermione's, watching as chocolate eyes drifted shut and full lips parted invitingly. "I could..." Slowly but without reservation she closed the remaining distance between them, brushing her lips against soft, young ones.

An elegant hand slid across the smooth skin of Hermione's jaw, fingers threading into a chestnut mane as Minerva deepened the kiss. Passionately their tongues touched, parted and touched again. Their mouths were on fire, hands began to roam as pent up, repressed desire was given free reign.

Minerva wrapped her arms around the young womans waist, lifting her up and pulling her closer so that Hermione was straddling her legs. Never breaking the kiss the older witch slipped her hands around to cup a shapely full bottom. Eager young hands tangled in unbound ebony tresses, fiercely clinging to the slender witch, who was skilfully tugging the shirt from within her trousers.

Finally the kiss broke when they ran out of air. "...Oh yes... you are... forgiven."

"I'm glad." Hermione smiled breathlessly.

Minerva twisted her fingers in chestnut waves, pulling the young womans head back, grazing sensitive flesh with her lips, hearing Hermione moan. Sharp teeth nibbled gently on a delicate earlobe, feeling the shapely body astride hers shiver with desire and hips rock against hers.

"I should warn you..." The brogue was deep with desire, as Minerva paused before continuing – wondering how she should phrase this. "You caught me rather by surprise this morning."

Puzzled Hermione pulled back slightly, "What do you mean?"

"I am not... as submissive as you may believe."

The young woman chuckled, "Submissive is not a word that I would associate with you."

"Nevertheless..." Minerva's lips caressed Hermione's jaw line in a way that was extremely arousing, incredibly erotic. "I am a rather... aggressive lover."

The younger witch quirked an eyebrow.

"Perhaps aggressive is the wrong word."

"Dominant...? Forceful...? You like to be on top...?" Hermione smirked, "Did you think I didn't know that?"

Minerva's wandering hands slipped under the young womans shirt, sliding around to cup full breasts through the thin fabric of a bra – feeling nipples spring to life against her palm. "I had hoped so." She pulled the shirt up in a practiced, decisive motion and lowered her head.

Hermione cried out when the older witch abruptly began to suckle on her nipple through flimsy fabric - causing a wave of pleasure to flow through her body. Two hands grabbed her by the hips as Minerva lifted her up once again, somehow managing to stand up while not breaking contact. The young witch wrapped her thighs around slender hips enabling the older woman to carry her into the tent.

The tent was dimly lit by the fire outside, the flickering light casting moving shadows on the fabric and any exposed skin. Minerva dropped urgently to her knees but gently lowered Hermione onto the soft bedding. Finally she let the over-stimulated nipple fall from her lips. "Are you sure that this is what you want 'Mione?"

"Yes."

They both laughed. The young woman reached upwards, trying to take off Minerva's shirt. The green eyed witch leant forward kissing her passionately once again, slender hands brushed Hermione's aside pulling the garment off herself in a lithe motion before turning her attention to her mates clothing.

Minerva's hands were gentle but sure and decisive against Hermione's skin as her shirt was pulled up and off slowly. Darkened emerald turned almost black as the older witch devoured the revealed flesh with her eyes. Enhanced vision enabled her to see every detail in spite of the dim light – erect nipples poking through the fabric of a bra (one somewhat redder and more engorged than the other), the flush of arousal on delicate alabaster skin, Hermione's chest rising and falling rapidly, the young womans head thrown back.

The older witch began to kiss, lick and nip the soft skin of her stomach before moving higher. At precisely the same moment they both said, "I love you." Hermione's declaration high-pitched and breathy, Minerva's deeply growled against flesh. The young woman felt herself grow wetter and began to tremble at the sensual, erotic promise in her partners voice.

Frantically Hermione found the clasp between Minerva's breasts, freeing the full coral tipped flesh to her eager hands. The older witch gave a high pitched gasp as she felt fingers squeeze both of her nipples. Her own bra was pulled off, the two garments joining the pile of clothing that had been tossed aside.

Cupping Hermione's breasts the older witch leant up for another passionate kiss. The young womans tongue thrust between Minerva's lips - the kiss was wet, needy and wanting, the most passionate one that either had ever experienced.

The brunette slid her hands down Minerva's naked back, feeling skin that was flushed with arousal. The older witch laughed as the roving hands found the button on her jeans and she pulled back to allow Hermione access to the fastening. "I am still not used to wearing muggle clothing."

The young woman brushed her lips across a slender throat. "You're the one who transfigured your robes into them."

"Mmmm." There was an odd note in Minerva's voice.

"You can't change them back can you?"

The older witch growled, "Mmmm."

Hermione lost track of what she was saying as a skilful hand slid between her thighs, cupping her sex briefly before beginning to move in a caressing motion. She gasped, instinctively opening her legs to allow Minerva greater access.

"Please..."

"Begging already?" Minerva's chuckle was low and sensual. She rose pulling off the jeans that Hermione had undone before kneeling between the young womans spread thighs and leaning forward. Her lips again sought the soft skin of Hermione's belly while she dragged her fingers down a shapely body, over hard nipples and downwards – stopping only when they found a zip.

The older witch smiled against skin as she felt Hermione's hips arch, wantonly. She obliged by unfastening the young womans jeans and nuzzling her face against the brown curls revealed by her action – infinitely glad that Hermione's underpants had blown off of their makeshift washing line a few days earlier – it saved her time now.

Lips began to caress Hermione's mound as her hands began to pull the tight denim down shapely thighs. The animagus could smell the younger womans arousal clearly and it went straight to her own core, making her even wetter. The animal within her was desperate now, desperate to act, desperate for the young witch who was lying underneath her – so ready and obviously willing.

Almost black chocolate eyes snapped open when she heard Minerva growl, a glance downward saw golden eyes with elongated cat pupils staring back at her in a manner that should have been disconcerting – in fact it aroused her even further. She bent her knees urging the older witch to remove her jeans completely.

Minerva McGonagall was pleased to oblige, more than pleased in fact. She ran both hands down the length of Hermione's legs, pushing denim in front of them. Watching as the young witch arched her back, lifting her hips off of the bed – watching as the motion gave her a fabulous view of the young womans most intimate area.

She gave another deep growl and added the jeans to the pile of clothing, leaving Hermione completely naked in front of her. The young woman moaned at the expression of desire on elegant features and opened her thighs wider, completely exposing herself to Minerva's gaze.

"Oh my."

The young woman chuckled, "Do you like what you see?"

Minerva swallowed...hard, "Yes... very much." She ran both hands back up smooth thighs, caressing heated skin. "You are... truly beautiful." She lowered her body to the bed, letting eager lips follow the path that her hands had taken. Gradually she worked her way up towards the juncture of Hermione's thighs, completely enraptured by the growing scent emanating from the younger woman.

Hermione let out a loud cry as a skilled tongue flicked over her slit, once... twice... beginning a rhythm that was arousing but far from satisfying – it was rather frustrating and she groaned, "Please..." She thrust her hips, trying desperately to increase the pressure.

That maddening tongue slid between Hermione's folds, finding first her dripping core and exploring further – finding the little bundle of nerves that drew a yelp from the brunette. The taste of the young womans arousal was intoxicating, making Minerva moan darkly. She leaned in closer lapping at the sensitive bud that was begging for her touch. Her tongue moved in circles; up and down, side to side, bringing the brunette closer and closer to ecstasy.

In a short space of time Hermione's head was thrashing from side to side, she was panting and crying out. Minerva pulled the erect nub between her lips and sucked, that was enough to tip the younger woman over the edge, "Oh...oh...OH... Min..." Her back arched like she had received an electric shock, almost throwing the older witch off of her.

The young witch collapsed against the pillows breathing heavily but Minerva was by no means finished with her. She rose up, lying partly on top of her new lover – drawing Hermione into a passionate kiss, letting the brunette taste herself. The animagus' nimble fingers slipped into dripping wet folds, finding the source of Hermione's arousal.

"Minerva... wha'...? ... ooooooh!"

Two moistened fingers slid into the young womans core, thrusting deeply and rhythmically inside of her mates body – smirking when the high pitched noises Hermione had been making turned into deep guttural ones. She lowered her head and began to kiss, nip and suckle at the brunette's neck and collarbone.

Minerva knew exactly what the young woman needed; could tell by Hermione's reactions how to time her thrusts, could tell by jerking hips when to curl her fingers to hit that special spot deep inside. "Yes... ooh... pl..." She obliged the unspoken request and continued to make love to the young woman.

The deep noises and cries began to increase in both frequency and pitch as Hermione rapidly approached her second orgasm of the evening. Minerva felt the young womans inner walls tighten around her fingers in the beginnings of a spasm and she couldn't help but give in to the reaction of her animagus – she sank newly formed fangs into Hermione's shoulder. The brunette screamed loudly in ecstasy as she climaxed – hard, crying out Minerva's name.

* * *

Several hours later the two naked and sated women were lying entangled in each others arms. Minerva's fingers were tracing soft, gentle patterns on the sweaty skin of Hermione's back, "Feel better?"

"I feel wonderful... I've wanted you for so long." The young woman nuzzled harder against Minerva's chest. "You're an amazing lover."

The ebony haired witch laughed, "I only hope that I pleased you."

"I think my approval was loud enough to be heard on the mainland." They made brief eye contact before erupting into giggles.

"Mmmm, perhaps not quite that loud." A gentle kiss landed on the top of Hermione's head. "Though, I suspect that we are in for some teasing in the morning." She grabbed a fur blanket, pulling it on top of their bodies and they lay in silence for a few minutes.

"Did you know that your eyes turn into golden cats eyes when you're horny?"

Minerva made a soft noise deep in her throat, partway between a growl and a groan. "No."

"It's pretty sexy."

"How could you possibly believe that is sexy?"

Hermione could feel Minerva mentally withdrawing from her, despite still being in her arms. She needed to say something to explain how she felt now, or risk loosing the woman she loved. "To think... that you want me so badly... it causes a physiological change."

Looking deep into chocolate eyes Minerva could do nothing but kiss her, there was a thread of passion running through it but it was a sweet, tender, loving kiss. Their lips parted, "I love you Hermione."

"And I love you." One of the brunette's hands brushed across Minerva's stomach, moving higher until it was cupping a full breast. The older woman gasped. "You have incredible stamina and **the** most skilful tongue...wonderful hands." She tweaked an eager nipple, "Experience perhaps?"

"Hermione..."

"I'm curious."

The ebony haired witch sighed, loving the feel of Hermione's hands on her body but not loving the direction that their conversation had taken. "I am certainly not easy nor indiscriminate about my partners... there have been few in recent decades in any case..."

"But...?"

"I am hardly an innocent Hermione." As if to reinforce the point she rolled the younger woman onto her back. "What about you...hmmm?" She pressed her thigh into Hermione's core.

A flush made its way across pretty features in response as the brunette began to pant, "I'm not totally innocent either Minerva." She slid her hand along a pale thigh, confidently finding the older womans dripping centre and toying with her opening for a moment before plunging inside. Minerva let out a guttural moan and spread her legs to allow Hermione greater access, while rhythmically rubbing her thigh against the brunette's sensitive flesh.

Verbal sparring turned into heady gasps and harsh breathing as the two women rocked together in a motion as old as time.


	8. Chapter 8

**A.N. Enjoy ;)**

* * *

Minerva was sitting on a rock watching Hermione pacing. She had not sat back and allowed someone else to take the lead in planning strategy since the death of Dumbledore. In a strange way it felt good. Now and then the young woman would turn passionate, fiery eyes towards her – Hermione absolutely radiated confidence and it was making Minerva rather horny.

"We know that traditional magic is shaped by our words, our incantations – the old magic that we have discovered is dictated by our thoughts."

"But only you can do that Hermione." George spoke up.

"You've all had some success, Luna especially." At the mention of her name the ethereal blonde blushed before returning her gaze to her small belly. "I spent a week... erm... building a log cabin to hone my control, I think that it is just a matter of mental discipline and practice."

"Sooner or later Death Eaters are going to come for us." Rosmerta stood, "I don't think that we will be much of a match for them without wands. Bellatrix Lestrange absolutely hates Minerva, there is no way that she will allow her to live. And I would rather die than serve Voldemort."

"As will I." Hermione stated with the absolute confidence of youth.

Minerva finally stood herself, in an almost lazy motion, "The question is..." She suddenly had everyone's attention, "Why have they have not come before now?"

"Perhaps they are waiting..." Luna's voice was musical, lilting.

"For what?" Hermione's question was directed at Minerva who seemed to have an opinion.

"You." Three voices uttered the single syllable.

Incredulous chocolate eyes spun from her mentor, to the nurse, to the barmaid. "What?"

Minerva smiled but without humour, "Did you see the way that HE looked at you?"

Hermione frowned, "With disgust, I'm a mudblood after all."

The animagus stepped closer, placing her hand on Hermione's cheek, "Tom Riddle always chose to surround himself with powerful and talented people. Your skill, knowledge and courage were very appealing to him, he regretted having to kill you but with your blood status well known..." She shrugged, "He had no choice. Once I informed him that you were a half-blood it rekindled his interest."

"But I refused him."

"That will only make him try harder. He has few followers of your age; only sons and daughters of his servants – they are not the most talented of your classmates as you well know. It would be quite a coup for him to gain you as a Death Eater."

"But I wouldn't."

"There are ways of gaining a persons loyalty Hermione." The expression in Minerva's eyes was dark and ancient - as though she had knowledge that she did not want to have. The younger witch nodded, there was something about that gaze that deterred her from asking further and she lowered her eyes. Minerva placed her other hand on Hermione's cheek, cupping her face. "You have always been a remarkable witch but in these last few weeks you have shown a burgeoning talent beyond my understanding. You are truly amazing." The ebony haired witch leaned closer and brushed her lips against the young womans.

They kissed until parted by catcalls and the clearing of throats. Shining brown eyes and bright golden orbs gazed embarrassed at the people watching them. "You guys are just too cute."

"Shaddup Georgie Boy."

* * *

Hermione lay in Minerva's arms, passion spent but still too keyed up to sleep. "Tell me about your home."

Lips brushed her damp forehead and gentle fingers smoothed chestnut hair back into some semblance of order. "Trust me?"

"Completely."

Minerva paused as she concentrated hard. "Legilimens."

Images began to flash through Hermione's mind. Tall hills covered with purple heather rolling past her as she flew past at breakneck speed. Rocky outcrops rising high above grey stone houses, groups of deer grazing in the lush grass beside a huge body of grey blue water. Snowy mountains taller than she could fly. Small islands with rugged coastlines dotted the wind-tossed sea.

In a sheltered spot beside a small lochan there was a granite manor house with carefully landscaped gardens leading up to the walls. She was walking up a gravel path towards a castle style wooden door, which opened to reveal a red-haired woman with familiar green eyes, opening welcoming arms in greeting.

The long hall was paved with ancient flagstones, leading up a set of five wide stone steps to the rest of the house. Elegant wooden panelled walls and antique furniture dominated the rooms, an over-stuffed library was filled with comfortable chairs. It was a home that radiated warmth and love.

Within the memories, Hermione walked up flights of stairs to a bedroom at the top of the house. A huge four poster bed filled much of the floor space, the only other furniture was a dresser and a wardrobe. Three walls had windows looking out over an impressive vista and the fourth led into a bathroom. The reflection in a mirror showed a much younger version of her lover, with short dark hair and dancing green eyes.

The images slipped away and Hermione was back in her own body. "Stunning." She was truly in awe at the scenery she had just experienced. "But..."

"But it was slightly out of date..." Minerva's arms tightened around the younger woman, "When I think of home, I think of my mother."

"I can understand that." She'd said goodbye to her parents a long time before and if what Voldemort had said was true – they were dead.

"That was when I was your age, I had been travelling through Europe with some friends. She had wanted me to have my independence but she worried the whole time I was gone." The older witch smiled against Hermione's hair, "I had missed her too, all of my poise and self-control vanished and I ran into her arms like a bairn."

"It sounds like you were very close."

"My father was an... explorer of sorts, he would travel all around the world. He vanished when I was a small child. My mother never remarried and concentrated on me, she taught me to read and write and gave me a love of books and literature. Regardless of what I did she was always there for me, even when I told her that I... was gay – she was surprised but all she did was embrace me and tell me that she only wanted me to be happy."

"I wish that my parents had taken it that well." Hermione chuckled, "What was her name?"

"Lorena."

"That's pretty." A few more minutes passed in comfortable silence. "I liked your hair that way."

Minerva chuckled, "I have always abhorred having hair in my face, so I wore it short until I began to teach and Albus suggested that I grow it so that I looked older." She ran her fingers through chestnut curls, "You have beautiful hair."

"It's too bushy."

"Once, perhaps but no longer." The older woman shifted her weight so that she was leaning over Hermione, bracing herself on strong hands. She looked down at the younger witch for a long moment before speaking, "It is truly beautiful, as are you my love."

A pink tongue flicked over lush lips in an attempt to moisten them, an action which made green eyes darken with renewed desire. Hermione whispered her name hoarsely, causing a rush of moisture to pool between the older womans thighs. Minerva swooped in to capture plump lips in a passionate kiss, moaning when a daring tongue darted out to duel with her own.

* * *

Meanwhile

Poppy rolled over running a hand over the curve of Rosmerta's hip. "Don't they ever stop?"

The buxom barmaid laughed, "I hadn't even noticed, living in an inn tends to give you the ability to ignore any amount of moaning and groaning noises... Besides they are in love."

"We're in love and we don't have sex three times a day!"

Rosmerta leaned in and kissed the tip of the nurses nose, "Neither of us is eighteen years old."

"Sometimes you make me feel eighteen."

"Oh really?" The barmaid closed the distance between them, wrapping strong hands around a slender waist.

"I'm worried about Minerva."

"Hmmm?" Rosmerta felt her arousal vanish as though she'd had a bucket of cold water dumped on her head.

"She's showing more and more cat traits everyday, this morning she was cold and so she grew fur. It's driving her crazy."

"She grew what?"

"Fur. Grey. About an inch long with black tabby stripes. Not that the details matter."

Rosmerta bit her lip trying to repress giggles that threatened to erupt, but she couldn't help the guffaw that escaped. "She has golden cat eyes too."

Poppy choked, "Only when she's been kissing Hermione..."

"You mean... that means she is... aroused?"

"Mmmmm."

"What about her 'heat cycle'?"

"It's been almost a month since the last one, if it's based on her human hormonal cycle she should be due another but if it is based upon the cat cycle she has more time."

"Ah... Poppy?"

"Ros?"

"Shut up and kiss me." The nurse laughed and obliged her lover.

* * *

Dawn found Minerva on the rocky shore at the far end of the island. She had transfigured her clothing into a linen shift and trousers, weeks of practice had made such a task far easier but it still took more concentration than the same undertaking with a wand.

She was practicing some martial arts stances, something she had done for many years but she was rejoicing at the new flexibility that she had developed in recent weeks. Her body practically flowed between complex positions with none of the morning stiffness that she had grown used to over the last decade. Her balance was far improved, something she noticed as she stood on the tiptoes of one foot while lifting the other over her head.

Laughter interrupted the quiet of the early morning. Minerva paused and looked up at her lover who was sitting cross-legged on the cliff above her. Her eyebrows raised in an expression that was pure Professor McGonagall, "Something dear?"

"You're incredibly cute."

The ebony haired witch snorted before grinning cheekily.

"Perhaps we should test this new found flexibility of yours?"

The grin turned naughty, "And what did you have in mind _Miss Granger_?"

"What you have in mind will have to wait until later." She smirked, "Jumping."

"Sorry?"

"Jump between some of those large rocks."

"And the purpose of this... experiment?"

"Testing balance and flexibility. Also I want to watch your arse."

Minerva laughed, "Well when you phrase it like that..."

Firm confident steps took the elegant witch to a large rock, she placed her shoe on the slippery surface and stood up onto it with both feet. The next rock was almost three feet away, hesitantly she bent her knees and lept. The landing was perfect but her shoes had little grip and Minerva's feet slid out from underneath her, pitching her heavily onto the shingle.

"Minerva!" Hermione jumped up, almost desperate enough to launch herself the ten feet to the beach.

"Stay there, I just slipped." The older witch stood, "These shoes are not exactly suited for aerobatics." Long elegant fingers untied the laces as she removed the offending footwear. Hermione sat back down to watch, knowing that the determined witch would not quit until she had made that rock pay for embarrassing her.

Bare feet gave the witch more confidence as she stepped once again onto the seaweed covered rock. She bent her knees dipping lower than she had before – true to her word Hermione was meanwhile admiring the curve of Minerva's backside.

This time the ebony haired woman made the jump without incident, rather than leaping back she saw another large boulder a few feet further away and spun around before soaring through the air. When she landed it was on hands and feet but Hermione's sharp eyes spotted the four sets of protruding claws that had been extended to gain purchase on the slippery surface.

Not bothering to straighten up from the primeval position, Minerva crouched even lower and bounded to another rock that was an impossible distance away. Again her claws helped her grip when she landed and Hermione could glimpse some changes to the muscle structure under the older womans loose trousers that were helping her vault from stone to stone.

It was when she giggled that Minerva looked up. Moving so fast that she was a blur – the older witch bounded across the beach and lept up the cliff. Hermione collapsed back on the grass under the weight of the older woman, whatever she was going to say was cut off by frantic lips against hers.

Urgent hands made their way up the brunettes sides and underneath her shirt. Hermione tore her lips free, "Claws."

"Oh Merlin, sorry." Minerva retracted her claws and resumed the caress with her human fingers. She hated when the younger woman had to remind her about the needle-sharp talons, hated that her carelessness caused Hermione pain.

"It's ok."

"No it is not. The last thing I want to do is hurt you."

"It's ok, really Minerva. It didn't hurt."

"I still have not forgiven myself for this." Gentle fingers touched a barely healed scar on Hermione's shoulder, a scar that had been made by her teeth the first time that they made love.

"Stop beating yourself up about that, I didn't even notice it until the next morning."

"But I..."

"It's hard learning how to control new abilities. I've set fire to your cloak, dropped a rock on your head and thrown you across a clearing – you don't hold that against me."

"That is different."

"Only in your mind." Hermione twisted, rolling Minerva over and laying on top of the older woman. "Now where were we?" Lips met again in a passionate reaffirmation of their need, desire and love.

* * *

Luna waved both arms hypnotically around her head humming a discordant tune as she did so. The charm that she was weaving was making fish beach themselves on the shingle. When she had enough to feed them all and some spare, she slowly lowered her arms and ceased her humming. She turned with a smile to Hermione, "Isn't this kind of magic fun?" Leaving George to kill the fish, she cradled her stomach and walked back in the direction of camp.

Minerva wrapped strong fingers around Hermione's bicep and leaned in, "Perhaps we should be singing and waving our arms around."

The younger witch giggled at the conspiratorial whisper. "It works for her and charms does seem to be her forte."

"So basically you are saying, 'Don't knock it until you try it'?"

Hermione looked up at her lover with a grin, "You first."

"Mmmm, perhaps later." Flirtatious emerald eyes met chocolate brown, "I can think of far more... productive things to do with our time."

"Such as?"

Innuendo, double entendres, flirting and a little touching passed between them as they followed the pregnant young woman back in the direction of the log cabin that Hermione had 'constructed'. They were both oblivious to the amused glances that were being directed at them as they made their way to bed.

* * *

A few days later

Practice with the 'olde magic' had enabled the outcasts to construct some home comforts that they had scarcely been able to dream of before. Hermione's outburst a few weeks ago had paved the way for her construction of the dwelling in which they lived. She had managed to carve out three bedrooms and a larger communal space but while cooking still had to be done outside – it felt more like a home.

Doors made by Luna gave them privacy and the eccentric witch was working on silencing charms. Working together Hermione and Minerva had transfigured the loose brush that they had all been sleeping on into proper beds with mattresses, blankets and sheets. Poppy had rigged up a pot with holes in it to serve as a shower, George had carved and hung some doors - all in all they were fairly comfortable.

Minerva woke up feeling rather warm, she tried to kick off the covers only to discover that they were already crumpled at the bottom of the bed. She rolled away from her lover and onto a cooler part of the mattress but it didn't help, she was still overheated. It was only when her skin began to tingle that she realised what was going on.

"For Merlin's sake!... Not again!"

She eased herself away from Hermione, trying not to wake the younger witch and stood up. "...Minerva?"

"Ssssh, go back to sleep. I am merely going for a run." Wryly she added, "I have some extra energy to burn right now."

"Mmmmmmpfh." Whatever Hermione said was muffled by the pillow that her face was buried in as she fell asleep again almost immediately. Despite her worry the animagus almost laughed, when the younger witch was asleep she tended to be rather hard to wake. She leaned over and gently kissed the back of the sleeping womans bare neck.

It took all of Minerva's willpower not to stay at that moment, the taste of Hermione's skin had awoken an almost overwhelming desire, and not only because she was going into heat. With a small groan she slipped out of the door closing it softly behind her, knowing that her cravings were only going to get worse. She hated the fact that her free will was taken away from her but at least this time she wasn't about to pressure her lover into anything.

* * *

When Minerva missed breakfast that morning, no one thought much of it but once they noticed that Hermione was being rather grouchy – meaningful looks were exchanged. George rubbed his nose ruefully, not wanting to say anything after what had happened last time. Rosmerta started nonchalantly whistling while she whittled at a stick, Poppy turned away and started grinding up some grass seeds. Luna just gazed into the featureless grey sky vacantly.

"What in the bloody hell is going on with you guys?"

"Nothing." Came from four people simultaneously.

Chocolate eyes narrowed suspiciously, "Yeah right." She grabbed her 'fish-on-a-stick' and walked away from them.

They were still grinning and chuckling an hour later when Minerva stepped out of the trees, her hair was loose, blowing gently in the wind and she was once again in jeans and a shirt – confirming their suspicions. "Hey." Her greeting was also a little out of character, all four of them hid their smiles behind their hands.

"I saved you some fish, it's probably a little dry though."

"Thank you George." Her smile was broad and the young man almost swooned in response. The pheromones that she was exuding affected him profoundly and he swallowed. "But I ate fish earlier."

"I didn't see a fire." Poppy spoke up, slightly concerned but feeling an odd insatiable curiosity.

"Oh I just ate it." She laughed and walked past them.

"Raw?"

"What... eeew?"

* * *

Minerva found Hermione bathing in the pool that they had discovered, she smirked recalling that it had also been the first time that she had seen the younger woman naked. "Well...hello..."

The brunette yelped in surprise, covering her ample breasts with small hands. "Oh Minerva...Hi... I needed to... erm... cool off." She watched as the older woman began to strip off her clothes, revealing creamy skin in a frantic striptease – before jumping into the pool.

They both began to laugh as Minerva drifted into Hermione's arms and kissed the younger woman soundly. Her lips were on fire, the kiss more important than air as they devoured each others mouths. When they finally separated the animagus began to pay homage to the sensitive skin of the brunettes soft slender neck.

Hermione threw her head back, loving the feelings that were coursing through her. She needed this right now, had needed it ever since she had awoken in an extremely aroused state that morning. "Oh shit."

"Mmmm?"

"You're in heat again aren't you?" She moaned as a naughty tongue caressed the hollow at the base of her throat.

"Somewhat."

"What is that supposed to m... ooooh." Questing fingers had slid between Hermione's legs, finding moisture that had nothing to do with the stream. She shrieked when Minerva lifted her bodily out of the water and sat her on the grass at the edge of the pool, "What are you...ooooh."

At that moment the older witch had eased her face between Hermione's parted thighs and pressed an open mouthed kiss against intimate flesh. When the younger woman looked down all she could see were bright golden eyes staring back at her as that naughty tongue slipped between her folds. Quicksilver flicks against her erect pearl had her falling backwards to lay on the grass, leaving her completely at Minerva's mercy.

And the older woman was relentless in her assault on Hermione's centre; lapping, licking, flicking with a roughened tongue that was impossibly flexible and dextrous – thrusting deeply inside of the young witch, drawing a cacophony of moans, groans, cries and yelps that grew louder as the minutes passed – culminating in a scream that could be heard all over the island.

* * *

Hand in hand the two women walked towards the blazing bonfire that had been lit in their camp. All of the sex that they had indulged in during the afternoon had done nothing to halt or even slow the heat building deep within Minerva's body. Finally they had both decided to wait until the fire finished building before trying to satiate it.

"Well hello you two."

Minerva flashed another uncharacteristic smile while Hermione growled at the friendly greeting from Rosmerta. The barmaid was not put off as she added, "Feel better?"

The growl turned into a fearsome snarl, revealing smooth, even white teeth.

Minerva merely smiled cheerfully, the sheer sensuality of the expression drawing small sighs from everyone present.

"I take it that's a no then?"

Hermione took a single step towards the buxom woman, while only a small movement it was full of purpose and threat. Rosmerta raised a hand and mimed 'zipping her lips', slightly pacified the younger witch flopped down onto one of the benches that George had carved. Meanwhile Minerva acted as though it was perfectly normal for Hermione to be acting so possessive and protective – it must have been a cat thing.

Poppy had her own theories about what was going on but judging from the lust filled vapid look on Minerva's face and the hostile, jealous one on Hermione's – it would be better for her to keep her own council, at least for tonight.

Several minutes passed before everyone around the fire became aware of a strange scent in the air. It was pleasant yet oddly primitive and primal, the aroma spoke to them all on some base and arousing level. Unerringly all eyes turned to the source – to Minerva McGonagall.

The elegant witch was sitting on the bench next to Hermione, so close that they were touching. Her torso was turned to face the younger woman, her arm was around the back rest and her fingers were playing with chestnut curls and caressing the nape of a slender neck. Her lips were millimetres from the brunettes earlobe, as she whispered something suggestive. As they watched, a pink tongue fleetingly flicked across the erogenous zone.

George groaned under his breath quietly. It was obvious from the way that Hermione's hands were caressing Minerva's thigh and grazing her ribcage – that his friend was the person most affected by the pheromones being exuded. But as the only male in the group, the effect that it had on him was still extreme. Looking around he noticed that everyone was experiencing the same draw to an extent – all eyes were on the animagus.

The young man coughed loudly enough to break the spell, noting that narrowed chocolate eyes followed his every movement. He stood up, making sure to cover his lap with his plate – dreading Hermione's reaction if she saw how affected he truly was. Muttering an excuse George walked off into the darkness.

"What's up with him?" Hermione was truly clueless about her behaviour, it was an instinctive thing – and something that she could not control.

"Well you did keep growling at him..." Poppy said quietly, trying her hardest not to sound confrontational.

"...Uh... I'll apologise to him tomorrow."

Luna tore her gaze from her former professor, "It's alright... he just wanted to hide his erection."

Everyone in the camp spluttered and coughed at the off-beat witch's candour. Several incoherent mumblings followed as they all tried to think of something to say – unsuccessfully. A few minutes of silence followed, to say that it was awkward would have been an understatement of epic proportions.

"I've had enough of this." Hermione was exasperated by the way her friends were acting around her mate, in addition the maddening caresses from Minerva were driving her wild with need. She jumped up, pulling the older woman behind her by the hand – in the direction of their bed.

* * *

"When's this gonna end? I can't take it anymore Minerva... you're driving me crazy." The older woman was on the bed with Hermione tugging frantically at her buttons.

"I WANT YOU." There was such an intensity in those three words that the younger witch gave up trying to unbutton Minerva's shirt and just tore both halves apart. She began to suck and lick at the unbound breasts she had just revealed.

"_Meeeerow... _No teasing..._ mewl..._'Mione please..."

Grinning Hermione threw the tatters of the shirt onto the floor and began to undo Minerva's jeans – with her teeth. Like the older witch she was desperate now, urged on by strong pheromones but almost as powerfully by the connection that she felt towards the animagus. With the button undone, she turned her attention to the zip and was soon pulling stretch fabric down over long, muscular yet shapely legs.

The truth in Minerva's words was now plainly evident, she shamelessly parted her thighs in an uncharacteristic gesture of submission. Ebony curls were even darker with moisture, an erect nub peeked from within swollen folds. Hermione sat back on her heels; leering for a moment before ripping her own clothes off.

In the few moments without contact Minerva could not contain her need and slid an elegant hand over her slender body, seeking the wellspring of her desire. Darkened chocolate eyes turned to black as she watched her lover begin to pleasure herself; hips arching upwards into the touch, body writhing around on the mattress, hair mussed and spread out over the pillow, thighs quivering as a long finger rapidly flicked over her aroused clit.

Both women cried out when the animagus suddenly thrust two fingers inside of her core. Hermione was more aroused than she could ever remember being, as she watched dripping fingers rapidly slide in and out... in and out...

Minerva was whimpering and growling, moaning Hermione's name and generally making 'cat in heat' noises. The younger woman could stand it no longer and gently brushed the elegant fingers aside replacing them with her own. "More 'Mione... _meerrrowl_..." She increased the speed and intensity of her thrusts, watching golden eyes roll back in Minerva's head.

The arousal of the older witch was obvious but she seemed unable to reach a climax. Hermione pumped her hand a little harder. "Moooore." Working on instinct now she added a third finger. "_Wrrrrroooooowwwwwwwwlllll."_

Many minutes passed, Hermione was beyond tired – her arm was hurting like hell and she had tried every 'trick' she knew but Minerva still hadn't managed to produce an orgasm – copious amounts of moisture but no orgasm. She gave into the wild animalistic side of her that Minerva had awoken and stopped thinking.

The young witch pulled her hand away, hearing the plaintive protesting wail that escaped Minerva but ignoring it for the moment. Firmly she grabbed the older womans hip and rolled her over, onto her stomach. "Wha'?"

"UP!" It was not a request, it was a demand, an order. It was something that the cat within the animagus responded to with alacrity. Minerva pulled her legs up underneath her, rising up onto her knees – instinctively she thrust her bottom backwards invitingly.

Hermione responded to her own primal impulse and pressed her groin against the older womans small pert backside, rocking into her gently as she kissed the soft skin of her back. "Please... _merwl..._" She moaned in response, pleased by the willingness and readiness of her mate. She slid nimble fingers between their bodies and once again used three fingers to penetrate Minerva's core.

"... meerowl..." Four sets of claws dug into the mattress, tearing the fabric. Within a few minutes the animagus roared as her long-awaited climax shot through her body and she collapsed under Hermione's weight.

The younger woman had a very self-satisfied smirk on her face as she listened to Minerva's breathing slow. "Feel better?"

There was no answer...

"Minerva?"

No answer...

"Well shit... not again!"


	9. Chapter 9

**Authors Note: Sorry about the delay. **

* * *

A week later

Minerva awoke slightly before dawn; conscious of being extremely cold and she was huddled against her young lover. She gave a low groan, clutching at her stomach – feeling a pain low in her abdomen. Hermione sleepily asked, "What's wrong?"

"Stomach pain."

The younger woman snapped fully awake and sat up, concerned. "Where? What kind of pain? Should I get Poppy?"

"An ache... here..." She showed Hermione where her hand was resting.

"That's odd, not an upset stomach then." The young witch stood up and pulled on her clothes, now that winter was almost upon them this far North – she had transfigured her t-shirt into a thick sweater and they were working on making cloaks for them all. "I'm getting Poppy."

"Hermione...no!"

"I am not taking chances with your health, so deal with it. Just thank god that we have her here or I don't know what we would do."

She shouldered the door open and slipped into the medi-witches bedroom without knocking – not wanting to disturb the others. "Poppy..." Gentle hands gripped the slender shoulder, shaking her awake.

A lifetime spent in her calling ensured that the nurse woke up quickly, instantly alert. "Hermione? What's wrong?"

"It's Minerva. She's in pain."

The nurse was out of bed in a flash, completely oblivious to the fact that she was naked and rushed into the other bedroom. Hermione heard Minerva make some sort of sarcastic comment and Poppy squeal, she grabbed a robe from the floor and followed.

The animagus was clutching at her lower belly, laughing as the nurse was trying to hide ample breasts behind a hand – while another was somewhat lower. Hermione handed the older woman the garment she was carrying before moving to the other side of the mattress.

Poppy apologised, pulling her robe on before moving towards the bed. She started asking Minerva questions about the pain, gently pressing on her abdomen. "Any backache?"

"Last night."

"Hmmmm."

"What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing."

"But then why?"

Poppy rubbed the bridge of her nose, "Minerva... I believe that you are about to start your menstrual cycle."

"My WHAT?"

"You heard. You are having your period."

Minerva pulled the blanket over her head, loudly groaning. "I thought I was done with all that."

"How long has it been?"

"Ten, fifteen years. I was too grateful to keep count."

Poppy made an indescribable noise, the verbal equivalent of a shrug. "This is probably related to the animagus changes that you are experiencing. Your appearance is getting younger and I am guessing that this is the start of more physiological changes."

Minerva made another series of groans.

Poppy turned to the young witch who was standing silently beside the bed, "I'm going back to bed. You can try rubbing her back, that may help." The nurse left the room.

"Minerva?"

Another moan.

"Sweetie?"

Moan.

"Honey?"

Moan.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Not!"

"So how would you describe hiding under the covers and not talking?"

Minerva emerged red faced. "I am absolutely mortified!"

Hermione slid back into bed, pulled the older woman into her arms and began to rub her lower back in firm but gentle circles. It took several minutes but Minerva did finally relax. "There is nothing to be embarrassed about."

"I... should have known."

"How could you?"

"While it has been several years, I should have remembered the sensation."

"You are way too hard on yourself." Hermione leant over, brushing her lips against Minerva's brow.

The older woman moaned and burrowed her face into Hermione's neck. This was the last straw, she was sick of her body betraying her. She began to sob quietly, despite the quiet whispered reassurances that poured into her ear.

* * *

The piece of wood hovered in the air a few feet above the ground. Responding to Hermione's desires it started to spin slowly and began to lengthen.

Minerva and Rosmerta sat to one side, whispering to each other – not wanting to distract the younger woman. "She cannot be conducting a traditional engorgement charm. If she were... all of the dimensions would be increasing."

"Hermione..."

"Mmmmm?"

"What spell are you trying to do?"

"...I wasn't. I just wanted to... make it longer." Another wave of her hand and the wood neatly broke into four even pieces. Chocolate eyes narrowed in concentration; the first turned into stone, the second into charcoal, the third into coal, and the fourth into a ball of water. The objects began to whirl around each other at will.

Hermione's magic was visually impressive and left both of the older witches bemused and awe-struck. "How is she holding a ball of water in mid-air?"

"Ros, I have no idea. It should not be possible, water in mid-air should be moving. Gravity is one of those immutable laws that cannot be changed... and yet..."

"I have a feeling that young Miss Granger hasn't even begun to scratch the surface of her potential." Rosmerta got up and left.

Minerva continued to watch the younger woman for a very long time, worried about the inherent dangers of completely wandless magic but extremely proud of what her mate had accomplished. "Mione."

The young witch lowered the articles, catching one in her hand as she did so - transfiguring it into a single red rose. Four steps brought her across the clearing to stand in front of her lover. A grin made its way across lovely features, as she reached out and handed the flower to Minerva. "You called?"

Charmed by the gesture the ebony haired witch lifted the rose to her face and inhaled the sweet scent. "Walk with me?" It was a request that was very familiar to the younger woman, over the years she had noticed that Minerva liked to talk while moving or sit behind her desk with a prop.

"Sure." The two women fell into step easily, heading for the far end of the small island.

"Rosmerta was rather impressed with your display. As was I."

Hermione's answering grin was broad with pleasure, "Do you think it would have impressed your father?"

"I do not think that he conceived that people like you could exist, your abilities are farther along than could ever be expected."

"Oh shush."

"I am not needlessly flattering. You are... incredible."

Hermione shook her head, "I don't think that I am displaying any tendencies that you are not capable of."

Minerva smiled once again, pulling the younger witch in for a short but sweet kiss. "I have a theory." She continued walking, knowing that Hermione would follow her.

"Which is?"

"You are a muggle-born."

"So?" The single word was slightly defensive.

"So... Before starting Hogwarts you had no expectations about magic, that lack of preconception gives you a different perspective than any of us. I believe that is why you can conceive of things that we cannot. I have also noticed that you rarely cast a recognisable incantation as we try to do."

Hermione sat on the headland when they reached it and looked over the grey sea. "I have found that if I concentrate on what I want to happen, rather than on how to make it happen – it will work. Traditional incantations are not anyway near as effective."

"I thought that was the case."

The young womans hand clasped Minerva's thigh, "You're worried about the potential dangers."

"Yes, I freely admit that it terrifies me but... I realise that your skills are the only chance we have of getting out of this situation alive." She rested her head in Hermione's lap, listening to the sounds of the breaking waves and looking up into the chocolate eyes that had captivated her heart and soul.

* * *

Almost three weeks passed; the nights began to get even colder, when they woke up in the mornings puddles would be frozen over and the wind was bone-chilling. George became even more protective of Luna, her pregnancy was obvious now and she was feeling the effects of the cold more than anyone. Hermione and Minerva grew even closer, more in sync with each other than they could have imagined.

But as the days grew ever shorter there was a certain amount of fear in the air, they all thought that the Death Eaters were coming but no one knew when. The uncertainty was even more chilling than the weather.

* * *

Minerva, Luna and Ros were helping Poppy gather the final berries and grasses they expected to grow before winter really set in. The medi-witch had gotten Hermione to design a smoke house so that they could dry fish and other food. Without stockpiled supplies they would starve.

Luna's conversation was as always slightly odd but the other witches had become used to her peculiar comments and were happy to chat with the younger woman. Adroitly they manoeuvred her around, so that they were doing the bulk of the work – not wanting the pregnant witch to over-exert herself.

They were teasing Minerva about wearing Hermione out, so much so that the brunette needed an afternoon nap – when they heard the screams.

Instantly all tools were thrown on the ground as they headed in the direction of the cabin. The soul-wrenching screams were obviously coming from Hermione and it drove the animagus crazy not being there.

Claws suddenly sprouted from her hands and feet, ripping through the leather of her shoes and pulling the limbs into a more cat-like form. As Minerva's stride began to lengthen her body changed. Her legs developed more pronounced joints and impressive musculature, along with tendons that supported their new flexibility.

Her companions watched in awe as the elegant witch raced off on all fours, bounding from place to place and through undergrowth with all of the grace of her feline self. She was soon out of view but Hermione's screams continued to resonate around the island.

They reached the cabin a few minutes later, to find the human form of Minerva standing outside with George. "She is inside there."

Four sets of eyes turned to the cabin. The very air coming out of it was red hot but there was no fire. They could all smell ozone in the air that was making their hair stand up. Flashing lights of various colours could be seen through the open door. And a supernaturally strong wind was rushing around and around the cabin, debris lodged in the tornado that kept them from entering.

"Minerva, was she experimenting with magic?"

"No. She has been tired, she wanted a nap."

"It looks like out of control magic to me." Ros stated the obvious in her usual matter-of-fact way.

"Minerva, you are the only one who has a chance of getting through to her." Poppy watched as emerald eyes widened.

The ebony haired witch took a deep breath and stepped closer to the maelstrom. "Hermione...? Let me in sweetheart." Talking all the while she crouched closer to the ground to make herself a smaller target for the wind. With little more than a thought Minerva extended four sets of claws and dug them into the ground.

Every step forward had to be slow and painstaking. Without her paws for anchorage Minerva would have been swept away by the wind. As it was she had to move one foot at a time in a perilous progression forwards. She was buffeted by flying debris and tore at by the intense gusts that seemed almost self-aware.

The air suddenly calmed as Minerva crawled into the eye of the storm. She stood up and stared at her friends on the other side for a moment before turning back to face the dazzling light show emanating from the open door. Closer now she could hear more detail to Hermione's screams. Her mate was crying out in fear and pain, begging for something to stop.

That overpowered Minerva's fear. "Hermione..." She lept up the step into the main room of the cabin, "It's me..." When the first bolt of lightening hit her without effect, she gave up all hesitation and ran into their bedroom.

Hermione was lying there in a tangle of sweaty sheets. Thrashing from side to side crying out in her sleep. Every item in the room was flying around, battering against other objects, slamming against the walls.

Minerva reached out shaking her lover awake and it all stopped.

The young woman began to cry, deep heart-wrenching sobs from the depths of her soul. Without a word Minerva held her tightly until the tears stopped several minutes later. "Sorry."

"Hermione... there is nothing that you need to apologise for, least of all for having a nightmare."

"But I lost control." The young womans voice dropped to a whisper as she admitted, "I could have killed you."

"But you did not. The fact of the matter is that nothing hit me or hurt me. Even asleep you had enough control to keep me safe."

Hermione sniffed, hopefully looking up at her lover – praying that what Minerva was saying was true.

"It was an impressive display and I am very proud of you, of how far you have come. The tornado you created would be an extremely useful defensive spell... or would be good for clearing land, prior to planting."

The young woman smiled, "And that of course is an essential skill."

"Indeed my love."

* * *

Later that night

"Hermione?"

The younger woman rolled over to face her lover. "Yah?" Her voice was tired.

"I love you."

"...Mnnnurrgf... love you too."

"I mean it."

There was an odd note in the older womans voice and it woke the sleepy witch up fully. "So do I. What's wrong?"

"I just wanted you to know that, in case anything happens."

"Minerva..."

"I... am terrified."

"So am I love."

"This is just too much, the idea of anyone hurting you drives me mad. I am incredibly confused by what is happening to my body and I...I..."

"So talk to me about it. You've been keeping a lot from me and even more from Poppy and the others."

Minerva stood up and walked over to the window and for a moment Hermione could see the moonlight shining off of her eyes, in a way that was more cat than human. It should have scared the younger woman but in a strange way it attracted her to the animagus more.

"I can hear... everything. The insects in the grass, the much depleted colony of rabbits on the hill. Poppy snoring."

"We can all hear Poppy snoring." Hermione's voice was dry.

"True. My body is changing and it feels like I have only begun to tap into these new abilities."

The young woman stood and wrapped her arms around her lover. "What do you mean?"

"When I deliberately grow fur or extend my claws or... change the shape of my legs... It feels like I could do more."

"More what?"

"Just more."

"More how?... I'm not being obtuse but..."

Minerva shook her head. "I wish I knew."


	10. Chapter 10

Minerva peered down into the bucket, using the still surface of the water as a mirror of sorts. Elegant fingers pulled at the skin around her eyes, slid between her brows and then brushed the corners of her mouth. This was not the face that she was used to looking at in the mirror, there were no wrinkles left any more and only faint lines where deep ones used to exist.

Both hands rose to run through ebony hair. There was a thin grey streak across one temple but otherwise her hair was uniformly dark. The presence of the grey was not reassuring to her in the least, her animagus form had a silver stripe in exactly the same place.

"Stop poking yourself. You cannot make wrinkles appear out of nowhere."

The older witch turned to face her lover. "How old do I look now?"

"Um...well... I dunno... Mid thirties?"

The animagus huffed and fingered her hair once more. Hermione reached out and took Minerva's hand, pulling her away from the makeshift looking glass. She led her mate back towards the cabin which was the centre of some odd activity.

"Why is everyone moving their bedding to the caves?"

"Well Minerva," Poppy spoke up, "We have been calculating your... ahem... cycle and well..."

The elegant witch put her head in her hands, mortified beyond measure by the subject of discussion. She pressed her face into Hermione's shoulder, feeling the young woman embrace her – hiding her blushes from the others. "Poppy we are both well aware of Minerva's heat cycle by now. There is no need to spell it out."

Over the course of that day they had both noticed a few small behavioural changes in the older woman that were characteristic of her pre-heat and they both knew what was coming. Neither woman appreciated it being pointed out in this manner though.

"Sorry... but we decided to give you both some privacy. We've left you food and supplies. See you in a few days." With that the other two couples rather hurriedly headed back into the islands interior.

Hermione's hand caressed the ebony hair tenderly. "They're gone now."

A frustrated, angry yowl sounded from the older woman, "I hate this!"

"I know love. I know." She led Minerva to the nearest bench and wrapped her arms around the older witch almost as soon as they sat down. "Talk to me about it ok?"

Suddenly it all poured out of the older woman, she confessed everything to Hermione about the changes that were happening to her body and how it made her feel. Her admission was with a degree of honesty that she had never before used – not with her lover and not even with herself. It brought them even closer together.

* * *

There was a delectable scent in the air, it was something that Hermione could detect even before she properly awoke. Her nostrils flared and she snapped into full consciousness. Minerva was still asleep but the young woman was now so affected by her pheromones that it had woken her from a deep slumber.

The slightly musky, slightly spicy aroma made the young womans mouth water and from that point onwards she was led by her body, her own hormones and not her mind. Logic had well and truly flown out of the window.

The young witch shifted her weight onto her side, she took a moment to watch her mate. She observed the rapid pulse fluttering on Minerva's throat, they had noticed a few weeks before that she was running a higher body temperature than normal and that her heart-rate was noticeably faster. But right now Hermione's focus was on a different aspect of human / feline biology.

She pulled the blanket from Minerva's body, revealing the very fit body of the animagus; full breasts with coral nipples that hardened in the chilly air, the flat but muscular stomach... She let out a low growl of arousal and shifted her weight once again. This time Hermione braced herself on her left arm and placed a knee between the older womans thighs.

She allowed her right hand to explore the path that her eyes had blazed across. Her lips were soon to follow, as she initiated the first of what would be many love making sessions that day.

* * *

The two women came up for air much later that afternoon. They were sitting on the beach on a blanket, wrapped in another but were otherwise naked. It was rather liberating to know that none of the others were about to disturb them, especially considering how loud that they had already been.

Hermione reached for a handful of dried fish and started to chew on it ravenously. Minerva followed suit, her cat side rebelled against the salty, smoky taste – the animal inside her wanted raw fish or meat. Something that repelled the woman.

They'd reached the point where more sex would frustrate them further. Both were aroused beyond belief by the raging pheromones and hormones but they knew from experience that they had to wait for it to reach a pinnacle before they could bring an end to the heat cycle that was driving them both crazy.

"I am so very sorry Hermione."

Startled the younger woman looked up, she took a moment to swallow before she answered. "None of this is your fault."

"Perhaps not but I should be able to stop it, I should be able to have more control over myself."

"Minerva don't be ridiculous. You can't control this any more than I can. Everything that has happened has been completely mutual."

The ebony haired witch nodded reluctantly, "Maybe and maybe one day it will get us all killed. If I cannot keep my hands off of you in the middle of a battle..."

Hermione reached out and grabbed the older womans chin, trying to get her to make eye contact. "We all believe that the animagus traits are a survival mechanism, there is no way that your body will be doing this in the heat of a battle."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Logic darling."

"Darling?" Minerva turned her head, pressing lips against the younger womans palm. "Darling?"

"Yes darling."

The older witch shook her head, "I am not sure about that."

"No one has ever called you darling before?"

"No."

"Then it pleases me to be the first... darling."

Minerva couldn't help laughing at the self-satisfied look on Hermione's face. She knew that she was stuck with that pet name now but somehow she couldn't bring herself to care. "You realise of course that I have to think up something equally..."

"Sweet... loving..?"

"Not the adjective that I would have chosen but it will suffice."

"Lighten up." Hermione had developed an innate understanding of how far she could go with the older witch.

Minerva loved the fact that the other witch was not scared of her and wanted to have fun with her. Even her previous lovers had been slightly in awestruck but Hermione was different. "Oh really? Lighten up you say?"

"Yup."

The older woman picked up Hermione and walked towards the sea.

"What are you..? No Minerva don't! No... Aaaaaah!"

Unceremoniously the young witch found herself dropped into the very cold water. She squealed in shock before standing up. Sand and salty water sheeted off of her naked body in a way that Minerva found very appealing.

The next thing that the animagus knew, she had been thrown about ten feet out into the tumultuous surf. Even wordless and wandless Hermione could easily best her in a test of magic. A moment later Minerva found herself ducked under the water by the younger womans bodyweight. They began to wrestle around in the chilly sea.

Several minutes later Hermione was lying in the shallows with Minerva atop her. Lips were frantically devouring each other as they kissed, heedless of the water breaking over their bodies. "Want you!" The young witch growled overwhelmed by desire, her voice was roughened and almost animalistic.

Shaking her head the animagus stood up and led Hermione back to shore. "That will just make it more unbearable."

"Unbearable enough now." Even teeth showed as the younger woman growled again.

It was as sexy as hell and made Minerva feel more than a little lightheaded. The idea that this gorgeous young woman was so attracted to her that she could not control herself – literally took her breath away and her knees weakened.

Hermione caught her woman before she could hit the ground. With a strength that she didn't normally possess she carried Minerva over to the blanket.

Uncharacteristically quiescent the animagus stared up at her mate, her thighs slightly apart, inviting the younger womans touch. Her eyes were dilated, gold around the edges but mostly black. At that moment Minerva's heat erupted into full-blown oestrous and she wanted Hermione like never before.

The brunette somehow knew that and in response she thrust two fingers deep inside of the older woman. This wasn't making love, wasn't shagging but something more than that, something primal and neither witch could do anything but accede to the demands of their flesh.

Without preamble Hermione began to thrust; hard and fast. She knew what Minerva needed and how to give it to her. The animagus arched her body, lifting her hips, desperately trying to force the young woman deeper inside of her core. She began to mewl with a need that wasn't being satiated. Claws sank into the soft skin of Hermione's shoulder blades, the young womans hiss of pain lost in their heavy breathing.

It was Minerva who pulled away. Heedless of the fact that she had rolled off of the blanket or the fact that they were in the open air – she lithely rose onto her hands and knees. Another breathless mewl escaped her mouth and she looked over her shoulder at Hermione. The young woman thought that it was the most gorgeous thing that she had ever seen.

Long unbound ebony hair hung in a way that reminded her of naughty French paintings. The elegant, refined features were flushed with desire and in addition to Minerva's cat eyes, she had grown fangs. Her full breasts bounced underneath her as she lifted her backside, trying to get the young womans attention.

Hermione trailed fingers that were still coated in the older womans essence across her lovers buttocks, growling with desire as the animagus whimpered. She could see the trail of arousal that was dripping down Minerva's inner thighs. "Please..."

Once again the young woman thrust inside of her mate, listening as the pitch of Minerva's cries changed from frustrated pleading to lusty approval. She began to pump harder and faster, her other hand sliding around to cup a full breast, squeezing the older witches nipple. Hermione's hand was sliding faster, covered in copious lubricant and she added another finger.

Minerva lowered her head letting it hang between her forearms, just giving into the sensation of being fulfilled. She yowled something that Hermione swore was a swearword. The young witch merely sped up the movement, thrusting her own hips against her hand trying to bury herself deeper inside of the woman she loved.

Minutes passed in a cacophony of cries, groans, heavy breathing, growls and cat noises. Minerva was starting to yowl again, frustration beginning to build once more. It wasn't enough. "...'Mione...more...please...more...need...you."

Hermione was torn, she needed to satisfy her lover but she had no idea how. The noises that Minerva was making made it hard to concentrate. Jumbled thoughts were rushing around her head; pheromone induced animal urges were driving her crazy – the need to please her mate and her own desire... everything was whirling around inside of her mind. All of her senses were overwhelmed by the feel of the woman against her and the smell of arousal in the air.

She felt a rush of magic swirling around her, within her. All she could think of was Minerva. In response to her desire and her magics, something began to change, a sharp pain between her thighs made her cry out. And as soon as the agony flared it was gone, replaced by a deeper desire. Something at the apex of her thighs began to grow, enlarge and suddenly Hermione knew how she could please her mate.

Hermione removed her fingers from inside of the older witch, hearing a begging yowl escape in protest. She positioned herself behind Minerva, nudging legs further apart with her knees – as with instinctive skill she thrust herself inside of her mate. "Yesssss... ooh... meeeeerrrrroowwwlllll." The animagus yowled in approval. Once again the young woman lost any ability to think, everything was focussed upon the pleasure she felt and the cries of her mate.

When Hermione dragged her fingernails down the soft skin of Minerva's back it made the animagus cry out loudly and dig her claws into the sand. She could feel the younger woman partially on top of her, deep inside of her and it was everything that she needed. Her orgasm started to build slowly and she mewled as she felt herself starting to tighten around Hermione.

The brunettes toes began to curl as fire started to make its way up every limb and began to pool in her stomach. She was thrusting as hard and fast as she could, knowing that it was what they both needed. Her pulse was racing as every muscle tingled, she could feel her mate begin to tremble around her and suddenly her whole body contracted in a series of spasms.

After a moment of stillness, Minerva slumped forward onto her belly panting heavily, still shaking. Hermione fell atop her in a similar state. Within seconds both witches were fast asleep.

* * *

Across the island four people had been trying to ignore the myriad of noises that came from the beach, caterwauling that had only increased in intensity (and volume) throughout the day. Finally Minerva's voice rose in what could only be described as sounding like a cat screaming, the long sound was joined by a husky primal roar. The mingled cries went on for several seconds before cutting off.

Rosmerta looked at her lover with a smirk, "Damn."

Poppy shook her head, sighing, "At least they are... done."

Luna took George's hand, "Cupido faeries are attracted to intense love making. They're good luck." She patted her tummy with her free hand, telling their unborn child all about faeries.

George looked at his pregnant girlfriend and then down at the bulge in his trousers that seemed destined to remain 'unresolved', "Well shit!"

* * *

TBC...

* * *

**A.N. Hmmmm?**


	11. Chapter 11

**A.N. Just a short one for ya'll**

* * *

Twilight came early to that part of the world now that summer was gone. The onset of darkness and the wind made the island very cold in the evening and it was the chilly air that awoke the two women.

Hermione was first conscious of the fact that she was laying on something very uncomfortable and that her body itched. She reached down to scratch her leg and discovered that her skin was coated with sand. Opening her eyes blearily she saw that she was lying beside Minerva on the rocky beach – which explained why she felt uncomfortable.

The older woman shivered and awoke. There was an odd gritty feeling in her mouth and she discovered that she was lying face down in a patch of sand. She sat up suddenly and tried to spit out the offending particles.

Hermione stood with difficulty and walked over to their rain bucket to get Minerva a drink. She returned to her lover without even saying a word. The animagus swilled her mouth out gratefully before trying to stand. "Aaaaaah!"

"Minerva, what's wrong?"

"Nothing..."

"You don't cry out for no reason."

"I... I am merely somewhat sore."

Hermione's concerned expression turned into a violent blush. "I'm sorry, I don't know what happened. I never meant to hurt you."

"I know you did not, I am not hurt but it has been a long time since I... The soreness will be gone by tomorrow." A gentle hand caressed Hermione's face, brushing the sand off of pretty features. "Scourigfy."

The spell was slightly too effective, not only removing the sand and dirt from their skin but also served as an efficient exfoliation. Minerva turned to lead Hermione into the cabin but as she did so, she noticed a series of puncture wounds on the younger womans shoulder. Bleeding wounds that had been caused by her own claws.

"I believe that I should be the one apologising."

"What for darling?" Minerva's fingers grazed the raw flesh, making her young lover wince. "Oh... that."

"How can you be so matter of fact?"

"Let's talk inside Minerva, I'm naked and cold."

Emerald eyes trailed over goose pimpled skin and erect nipples in a hungry way that had nothing to do with heat. "I can see that."

"Aw quit it." The young woman grabbed Minerva's hand and pulled her into their room. "Besides you should see the nail marks I left on your back."

They curled up on the bed in each others arms, neither could be bothered going back outside to fetch the blanket – so they lay together sharing their body heat. A few gentle kisses were exchanged before they relaxed against the pillows. "Minerva... what happened earlier?"

The older witch gave a chuckle. "What you did was a variation on the engorgement charm. It is... for obvious reasons not in the magical textbooks that we recommend at Hogwarts."

"I didn't know about that. I have absolutely no idea what I did, was just concentrating on you at the time."

Another chuckle followed in amusement at the flush that was rushing up Hermione's face.

"Minerva..?"

"Hmmm?"

"Have you ever..." Hermione's question was made clear when she ran a gentle finger across the tip of the older womans clit, making her squirm.

"No. I always wanted to but none of my partners wanted... that." Minerva smirked thoughtfully turning naughty, inquisitive eyes to meet Hermione's chocolate gaze. "How would you feel about it?"

Surprise showed on pretty features, "Well... uh... ok."

"Ok?" The older witch enquired in a low sensual tone. An unexpected but very human rush of desire shot through the two women. They were both too tired and sore to indulge in it so they settled for a few cuddles.

"I think that we are going to get teased tomorrow..."

"Mmmm hmm." Minerva was almost asleep once again, "Why not worry about that tomorrow?" She yawned, exposing slightly pointed teeth before burrowing back into the younger womans arms.

* * *

A week later

Hermione yawned, she really wanted to go to bed and get away from the increasingly maudlin talk around the campfire. Considering their situation it was a wonder that this didn't happen more often. Unofficially she and Minerva were the leaders of their little exiled group, as such she could not leave while morale was so low.

Conversation had started as they guessed about what Voldemort was doing on the outside but it had now changed into remembering the friends and family who had been lost at the battle of Hogwarts. They had all lost a great deal but no one more than George.

Tears were running down the young mans face. "And the crazy thing is that I've got nothing left. All of my close family are dead, the only ones left alive hate us."

"Who?" Hermione queried having met most of the Weasley clan at various gatherings over the years.

"My cousins on my mother's side, they subscribe to all of that pure-blood bullshit and call us blood-traitors. In fact they've probably burnt down our house and salted the ground by now."

Luna brushed the tears from his cheeks while everyone else just stared at him. "What do you mean George?" It was Rosmerta who took pity on him.

"Well my parents are dead, my brothers and my sister..."

Hermione's mind suddenly flashed back to Ginny running towards Harry's dead body, before turning her wand on the mass of death eaters. Her friend had died while touching the body of the man she loved. That was some consolation but not much when compared to the senseless death of the girl and the murder of her father only a few moments later.

"Everyone probably thinks that we're dead too. So Mum's family were next in line to inherit."

"You are wrong George." This time it was Minerva who spoke. "There is a great deal of misconception about wizarding wills. Most people write a will in the muggle way but it is actually not necessary. A network of spells exists that detect the specific wishes of a witch or wizard, which is more often than you think – different than what is written down."

"How do you so much about it?"

"I worked in the Department of Magical Law for some time prior to my teaching career."

The only face that didn't show surprise was Hermione's, who had already known that snippet of Minerva's life.

"So what does happen?"

"In your situation, the spells would detect that you are next in line to inherit and that you still live. With the exception of The Ministry itself, no one could claim your property."

"So The Burrow is still safe? It isn't much but it's all I have."

"Yes."

Hermione got up from the fire with a very strange look on her face, something sad and conflicted but largely unreadable. Minerva called her name softly but got no response. The young witch felt herself pulled into the embrace of her lover."What is wrong?"

The brunette shook her head, lost in thought. She leant her cheek on Minerva's shoulder for a few minutes. "And..." She had trouble speaking and cleared her throat. "And what of Harry's property?"

Minerva frowned, not understanding why this subject was upsetting her love. "I suppose that given Harry's turbulent relationship with his blood relations that he would have intended his property to pass to Ronald or Ginevra Weasley... or yourself."

"So if it passed to Ron and he died, then George would have it?"

"Probably not, given that they all died within a few hours – I believe that it would pass to the next person on Harry Potter's 'list'."

"To me." It wasn't a question and Hermione's voice was a whisper. She pulled herself from Minerva's arms and began to pace.

The older witch sat down with the other equally clueless inhabitants of the island and just stared at the young woman who was talking to herself as she walked back and forth.

Hermione turned back to face the fire and the five sets of eyes that were watching her every move. Her features were pale in the reflected light from the fire and bloodless lips parted as she uttered a single word in a loud voice imbued with power. "Kreacher..."


	12. Chapter 12

It was a tenuous hope.

More than that, it was the fragile membrane of hope.

_Could it really be that simple? After all of this time?_

There was only a small chance that Kreacher had passed to her.

An even smaller chance that he had survived the battle.

That Voldemort would have let him live.

_Please... Please..._

Every frantic beat of her heart sounded too loud.

She was hoping, praying, wishing.

Seconds dragged on and felt like minutes.

The waiting was unbearable.

She wanted to scream but her chest was so tight that she could not draw even a single breath.

_Please Kreacher, please come._

Hermione was unaware that her fingers were crossed.

Five sets of eyes stared at her in shock but their faces were writ with the same fragile hope she was feeling.

She felt that she was either about to faint or explode.

Something had to give.

* * *

**A.N. I know I'm a tease... this is the smallest chapter I have ever done. **

**TBC**


	13. Chapter 13

**Authors Note: Sorry for upsetting those of you who expected an update a few days ago. I accidentally posted the update for a different story on this one, so I accidentally teased you again. Enjoy;)**

* * *

Hermione thought that the waiting was going to drive her insane. She wasn't sure if seconds, minutes or hours had passed – it could have even been years.

A small pop sounded from behind her.

The young woman spun around to stare at the wizened old house elf that had appeared. She stared at him wordlessly as she felt her legs weaken. Hermione fell to her knees as she started to breathe again.

"Poor Kreacher... lost his house... hunted by purebloods... forced to hide... And then summoned by a filthy mudblood..." The house elf began to pace in the way that he used to do, glaring up at Hermione out of the corner of his eyes.

Hermione slowly recovered. "Kreacher... It is very good to see you."

"Really? I mean... people are happy to see Kreacher when they wants his help... yes they are."

"I'm pleased to see you anyway but yes I do want your help."

"Mistress can order Kreacher to do anything she wants."

The young woman shot a guilty look at Minerva before turning back to the elf. He was more ragged than ever and he was almost emaciated. "Would you like something to eat Kreacher?" She indicated the fire, a pot kept warm the remains of their stew.

Huge eyes looked up at her suspiciously. Poppy dished him up a huge bowl and gave him a hunk of the rough bread that they had been making. The elf looked at the food in his hands incredulously and scuttled off into the dark to eat.

Hermione turned back to her companions and threw herself into Minerva's arms. The older woman cradled her as the young witch sobbed in relief. "Sssshh." The animagus began to kiss her forehead, whispering words of reassurance into her ear.

* * *

"The Dark Lord sees everything. Kreacher has heard that he kills those who dare speak against him."

"Is anyone from The Order alive?"

"Kreacher does not know."

Poppy spoke up, "Where were you living since the battle?"

"Kreacher's house was set on fire and he has been running." He turned his gaze to Hermione, "What does... Mistress want with Kreacher?" His voice was cold and hard.

Hermione got up and paced again. She was not comfortable in the least with this turn of events. Never comfortable with even the idea of house elves – the idea of forcing one to do her bidding against his will was abhorrent. To save herself, her mate and all of their friends, could she go against everything that she believed in?

The young woman rubbed her face frantically with both hands, well aware that she was probably the only person present with this type of moral dilemma. The others were all purebloods, how could they possibly understand? What the hell should she do? Hermione knew what was right but she could also say with certainty that if they stayed here in the long term then they would be hunted down and killed. Was it right to take away the free will of a sentient being to save six lives?

"Kreacher I... Remember when I gave you a Christmas present?"

"Yes."

"Did you wonder why I did that?"

The elf shook his head and his facial expression turned almost thoughtful.

"Or why I've always been nice to you?"

"People trick Kreacher."

"I haven't and I won't." She paused. "I have a problem that I hope you can help me with, well actually I have several problems but there is one in particular."

"What is Mistresses problem?"

"As you've pointed out a lot, I am a muggleborn. That means that I see things differently that most witches or wizards. Including house elves. I don't agree with slavery nor do I agree with forcing people to do things. My problem Kreacher is that I don't want to order you to do anything but I need your help, I can't save us without you."

"Just tell him what to do for Merlin's sake!" George screamed at her from across the fireplace, he stood up and started to charge towards them. Hermione stopped him magically with a thought, drawing a curious look from the house elf.

"I will order you to help us if I have to Kreacher but I don't want to and I would much prefer that you help us. We need some help and I promise that we will either kill the man who murdered Master Regulus or die trying. And when that's all over you can have anything that you want."

The elf frowned at her for a long time. "Kreacher will help Mistress but it is late and Kreacher is tired."

* * *

They made the elf up a bed in the communal room in the cabin that Hermione had built, before retiring to their bedrooms. The young woman collapsed onto their makeshift mattress, tired beyond belief. Minerva joined her and pulled her into her arms.

"...'Mione?"

"Yeah?"

"I am extremely proud of you."

Hermione smiled, "I know that you don't understand my issues with house elves."

"You are right, I do not but I do admire your adherence to your convictions and you handled that situation incredibly well."

"I hope so."

"You did." Minerva leaned in and kissed her mate.

Neither dared to speak about their hopes and dreams. The idea that after months of exile they might return to the real world... was too scary, too sudden.

Hermione felt her body respond to the caress of lips against hers. One of Minerva's hands softly ran down one side of her ribs, over her hip and down her flank. The touch left tingles in its wake and made the younger woman tremble. The animagus abandoned Hermione's lips and began to lick and suckle at the scar on the young witches shoulder, the wound that her teeth had made the first time that they had made love.

Minerva could hear a soft hungry growl coming from low in her own throat. She could feel the way that Hermione's body arched at the sound. Something primal within her powerfully responded to the knowledge that her mate was lying beneath her, willingly and eagerly responding to her touch. Hands began to caress the young woman's body, skilfully arousing, lovingly paying homage.

* * *

"She is your mate?"

Hermione's eyes widened at the question. Kreacher had been silent all morning. He had eaten more breakfast than the rest of them put together but had only now broken his silence.

"Yes she is."

"Pureblood McGonagall... noble house."

The young woman nodded, not sure why it mattered but if it made the elf happy, who was she to try and change his opinions about blood status? "Do you know where we are?"

"Western Isles."

"Ah, I thought so." Minerva chipped into the conversation with a smile, relieved to have been proven right.

"Could you find out if there are other people on these islands? Exiles like us?"

"Kreacher would haves to go look."

"Remember that they would have been alone for many months, your appearance might scare them so it might be safer if you kept hidden." Hermione's concern for the elf was clear even to him, suspiciously he narrowed his eyes trying to spot the hidden agenda.

The elf stood up and almost bowed at his new mistress before disapperating.

"Do you think that he will come back?" It was the first thing that George had said to Hermione since the day before.

The young woman looked at him, "He'll be back, he has to come back." She walked over to George and gave him a hug, giving him a manly slap on the back. "No hard feelings?"

"Nah." He mock punched her on the arm.

Minerva growled warningly and her hair on the back of her head began to stand up in spikes, giving her a rather odd appearance.

Hermione returned the punch before walking over to her woman. "Chill." She murmured softly, watching as the hair began to return to normal. A glance downwards showed her that Minerva's claws had ripped through her shoes and were gripping the rocks. "Claws."

Minerva gave an exasperated noise and retracted her claws, shaking her head. "What do we do now?"

"Now, we wait for Kreacher to come back. Depending on the number of islands and how big they are... it could take some time."

The older witch whispered in her ear, "I am not that patient."

"I know."

* * *

Several hours later the elf appeared. "Kreacher has returned Mistress."

"Hello Kreacher. I'm glad that you're ok."

He frowned once again. "Many islands is empty. Some shows that people were there. Others had bones. Three had spell damage that is recent and dead humans."

"Did you find anyone still alive Kreacher?"

"I found twelves."

"Twelve people?"

"Yes."

"Fantastic news. Well done Kreacher."

The elf's frown relaxed and he raised his eyebrows, obviously unused to praise.

"Would you like some rest or something else to eat?"

"Kreacher is fine, what else do you require?"

"Do you know Shell Cottage? Could you take Minerva and I close to it please?"

"Yes." The elf held out both hands and allowed the witches to hold onto him.

* * *

It had been months since either witch had felt the sensation of apparation and it made them both feel extremely nauseous. When they appeared hidden behind the dunes Hermione was surprised to see Minerva turn away and begin to vomit. The younger witch turned her back and tried to keep the contents of her own stomach down.

"Sorry." Minerva choked out, wiping her mouth. "It has been many years since I last did that."

Hermione reached into her pocket and handed the older witch a clay water bottle, so that she could rinse her mouth out.

Kreacher looked on impassively. "Shell Cottage Mistress." He indicated the direction of the house.

"Ok, Minerva and I are going to look around." The young woman interrogated the animagus with anxious eyes, trying to determine if she was fit to go.

"Does Mistress want Kreacher to look?"

Hermione paused, "It might be dangerous."

"I go."

The elf clambered laboriously over the dune. Hermione and Minerva followed and lay on the sand, looking over the top. They anxiously watched the elf as he peeked in the windows. Suddenly the door opened and Kreacher vanished, appearing behind the two women. At the cottage an elderly man, a middle aged woman and a younger witch all stood brandishing their wands, looking around worriedly as they searched for whatever it was that had triggered their alarm charms.

Both women exchanged a glance as they recognised the trio. They stood and slowly approached the cottage. "Minerva?"

"Professor McGonagall?"

Uncharacteristically nervous Minerva reached for Hermione's hand before she replied. "Well hello."

"God Minerva we thought you were dead."

"No Hooch I am absolutely fine, thanks to Hermione." She warmly glanced down at the woman at her side, drawing curious looks from the others. "It is good to see you all alive." Minerva gradually lost her nerves and greeted Rolonda Hooch, Andromeda Tonks and Olivander by name.

"Is it safe here?" Hermione entered the conversation for the first time.

"As safe as anywhere can be at the moment." Tonks replied with a snort.

The young woman turned to her mate, "Minerva, do you want to stay here? Kreacher and I can go and get the others."

"Are you sure love?"

Neither of them noticed the incredulous and shocked looks exchanged between the other three people as Minerva bent her head to kiss Hermione sweetly. The younger woman walked back towards her elf, keeping hold of the older witch until the last possible moment. They hadn't really been apart in months and so it was hard to even think about separating.

The older woman kept her eyes on Hermione until the younger witch vanished along with Kreacher.

"Um Minerva?" Hooch spoke up.

"Yes?"

"Are you hitting that?" She leered at her former employer.

"It is nothing like that." Minerva took a long moment to decipher the flying instructors ultra trendy language, glancing at the aghast expressions directed at her. "Rather... It is far more serious than that."

"How?" Andromeda asked.

Frustrated now Minerva responded with, "I love her and if we live through this, I am going to marry her. End of conversation."

They all went into the cottage and Andromeda proceeded to make a pot of tea in preparation for the new arrivals.


	14. Chapter 14

**A.N. Enjoy**

* * *

Hermione felt a giddy but melancholy sense of déjà vu. She was sitting on a dune overlooking Shell Cottage, from her vantage point she could look out over the building, the sea and Dobby's grave. It was a place that Harry had often sat during their stay before the raid on Gringotts. He had become a loner and had taken to sitting here. Unintentionally Hermione had begun to follow suit.

For the first time the young witch truly understood how her friend had felt. She had somehow taken his place as a fulcrum for the resistance, it seemed like everything rested on her shoulders. Like Harry before her, she found the weight almost too much to bear. The cottage was too crowded and far too noisy – she couldn't think and after months of isolation, she could barely stand even being inside. Hence she spent hours sitting on the dune.

"Here you are. I have been looking for you everywhere."

"I didn't mean to worry anyone." Earnest chocolate eyes looked up, trying to convey her inner thoughts to Minerva.

"I also find the cottage rather crowded at the moment. The others spend most of their time in their bedrooms – which is why no one assumed that you would be sat out here in the cold." Minerva sat next to her young partner and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Everything here reminds me of Harry."

As always, remarkably intuitive the older witch spoke softly. "And it makes you believe that our new rebellion will end as his did?"

"We made so many plans... I didn't agree with all of them but... Ultimately we failed. I can't help but see history repeating itself."

Minerva pulled Hermione closer into a tight embrace and her lips brushed against the younger womans hairline. "As you told me before, Harry did not fail. The three of you destroyed the inanimate horcruxes and he knew full well that his death would make 'He who shall not be named' vulnerable. Harry Potter sacrificed himself because he knew that it was the right thing to do."

Hermione returned the kiss, "Logically I know all of that... but I'm scared."

"I know love. I am scared too believe it or not."

"You just hide it better."

Both women laughed and just held each other for a few minutes.

"Minerva?"

"Hmmm?" The older womans tone was suspicious, picking up on a strange nuance in Hermione's voice.

"Did you really tell Hooch that you were going to marry me?"

**Busted! **Minerva smiled to hide her surprise and discomfort. Two could play at this game. "I might have said something like that."

"Shouldn't you ask me first?"

"I was merely stating a fact. When I am ready to ask you I will."

Hermione laughed, "Well don't leave it too long."

There was a brief pause, "If I did ask, what would you say?"

"If you want to know my answer... then I guess that you are going to have to ask me."

"Perhaps I will."

Their exchange had drastically improved Hermione's mood, she smiled broadly. "Maybe you should then."

"Maybe **you **should Miss Granger, after all you did choose to mate with me."

"You're an old-fashioned gal Minerva, you won't be happy unless you are the one to ask."

Wry lips twisted into a smile. "How well you know me."

* * *

The following night

Hermione managed to choke off a scream before it erupted from her throat. She rolled away from her lover and lay on her back staring up at the ceiling in the dark. In her nightmare she had been back in Malfoy Manor under the tender mercies of Bellatrix Lestrange and back at Hogwarts watching everyone that she cared about die, hearing the news of her parents murders. The recollections had been incredibly vivid but at least she had kept her magic under control this time.

She glanced sideways at Minerva, the older woman was still sleeping soundly – not disturbed by the amount of thrashing around that she had done in the throes of her nightmare. They had been doing a lot planning and settling the other exiles into the cottage had been rather tiring. Hermione gave a wry smile, acknowledging that the ebony haired witch needed her rest and she quietly slipped out of bed, silently dressing before leaving the room.

The young woman walked through the cottage, hearing quiet sobs from behind one door, cries of passion from behind another. She disarmed the magical alarm and headed into the garden for a walk. A light shone from underneath the door of the shed and cautiously Hermione knocked. The shed belonged to Ollivander, he had never allowed anyone to enter his domain but perhaps on this night he might welcome some company.

"Miss Granger... hello."

"Mr Ollivander, I was awake and saw your light. I wondered if you would welcome some company."

Always oddly intense the sparkling blue gaze narrowed for a moment. "Come in, do."

Hermione looked around curiously, pieces of wood and tangled ingredients littered a work bench. A snapped wand lay forgotten at one end, next to an empty whisky glass. "This isn't quite what I expected."

"And what did you expect?"

"I don't know. Wandmaking is one of the most secretive branches of magic."

"Indeed." The elderly man sat down and continued to fix Hermione with his sharp stare.

"Mr Ollivander... I have noticed that you have been treating me differently since we came back from the island. I wanted to know why."

"You have changed. More than you probably realise."

"How so?" Inwardly Hermione was expecting yet another inquisition into her relationship with Minerva.

"You may not realise Miss Granger, that wandmaking actually utilises the type of old magic that you and your compatriots discovered by accident. They do not yet understand how magic ties everything together but you are starting to understand that."

The young woman frowned, not comprehending what he was talking about but on a deeper level she realised that understanding was almost within her grasp. "Creating wands takes a certain amount of old magic. There is only one wand written about in the annals of history that can create or fix another."

"The Elder Wand."

"Yes. Therefore we use the old magics and muggle means to make wands. Matching a witch or wizard to a wand requires an intuitive understanding that cannot be taught. Good wandmakers are born not made."

"What are you saying?"

"I can teach you to use your innate gifts. I believe Miss Granger that you now have the potential to be the best wandmaker ever known to man."

Hermione lifted an eyebrow, surprised. Wandmaking ran in families and knowledge was passed down from parent to child or from master to apprentice – as such it was a career that she had never considered but as soon as Ollivander uttered the words, she felt something deep inside of her begin to respond.

She said nothing for a few minutes, letting her gaze wander around the shed. Chocolate eyes lingered on the broken wand and without asking for permission she picked it up. She could feel the break in the shaft with her fingers but a strange tingle in her mind showed her that there was a series of smaller fractures – hairline cracks that could not be seen with the naked eye.

"Unicorn hair?" The white thread running through the core of the wood could not be seen but she knew that it was there. She could feel that it was there. Hermione placed the two ends together, almost willing them to unite. Unbeknownst to her, light began to shine from within the cracks – growing dimmer as they began to heal. There was a strange musical note in the air that deepened in pitch and a shocked witch watched as the wand became one cohesive whole in her hand, responding to her will.

She lifted chocolate eyes up to meet surprised blue ones. "Well Miss Granger, it seems as though you have proven me right already."

"I...I..."

"I have no children, nor an apprentice. I propose to pass on my knowledge to you. The wands that you create will be capable of defeating he who shall not be named. Our work begins now."

* * *

Out of the twelve people rescued from the islands only four had chosen to remain at the cottage and begin to form the new resistance. It was the third incarnation of the order of the phoenix – there could have been no other name for their organisation.

The four remaining people were Phineas Honeyduke, Pomona Sprout, Cho and Pavarti. They were all surprised at having been rescued after so long but were more surprised to have been rescued by Hermione Granger and a house elf. The youngsters were all in a state of shock due to their discovery that their former classmate was in a passionate relationship with their Transfiguration professor.

Minerva was having to deal with all of this, she had a headache and Hermione had been spending the last several days holed up in a shed with Ollivander. 'Why was it that people her age had no problem with being told to shut up but her former students couldn't take a hint?' Gradually the news that a new resistance was forming had gotten out and other people were making their way to Shell Cottage.

She was splitting them into smaller groups, trying to combine inexperienced people with more seasoned ones – a job that wasn't made easier by the fact that everyone seemed to be paired up.

The ebony haired witch rubbed her forehead frustrated beyond belief. "Now that you all have your assignments, I expect you all to practice duelling together. Pomona will instruct each group in how to remain concealed in the countryside, I will be instructing you in surveillance techniques and other masterclasses will be arranged on an ad hoc basis. If any of you have a special skill that might be helpful, please let me know."

When no offers were forthcoming Minerva gave a sigh and left the crowded room, going in search of her young lover. When she wasn't around Hermione, she missed the younger woman intensely and in a way that was uncharacteristic. She couldn't help the way that she felt but somehow she didn't care that she was pussy whipped.

* * *

Hermione walked back into the room that she shared with Minerva, mentally exhausted but physically and emotionally keyed-up. Ollivander's words kept repeating in her mind, 'The core of a wand is both complementary and connected to the witch or wizard'. He had never explained the phrase but upon seeing her lover the young woman had a brainwave.

"Hermione... I swear that they are all...absolute... morons. You have no idea how frustrated I am."

The younger witch giggled. "Well my love... I believe that I can help alleviate your frustration." She rapidly waggled her eyebrows.

It was Minerva's turn to laugh as her lover sat next to her on the bed. "That sounds wonderful."

"But first..."

"Hmmm? What?" Nimble fingers moved to the clasp on her own robes, "Please?" She started to slide the garment off of her body.

Hermione grinned, no one in the world would believe that the great Minerva McGonagall would be undressing herself and begging for the touch of her former student. "I'm happy to oblige my lady."

"But?"

"But would you mind growing some long fur for a moment?"

Minerva frowned, slightly confused but too horny to be curious. "Well alright." It didn't take a lot of concentration to manifest her animagus features any more, it felt too easy. Long striped grey fur erupted from her bare shoulder.

Gentle, loving fingers caressed the long strands. "Count to three."

"What?... One... Two...Th...Owch...Yowwwwlllll!"

Hurt, watery emerald eyes stared up at Hermione. "I'm sorry Minerva, do you want me to kiss it better?"

"You had better!"

The young woman placed the strands of fur in the drawer of her bedside table, before pulling her lover into her arms. Gentle lips caressed the slightly reddened skin of Minerva's shoulder and a soft tongue licked at the sore spot. "I guarantee that you'll like the end result."

Minerva looked more than a little sceptical but she nodded. "If you do that without warning again, I swear that I will scratch you."

"Fair enough." The two words were barely understandable, whispered into a kiss, as Hermione's lips met her older lovers in a passionate contact that soon led into much more.


	15. Chapter 15

**Authors Note: I was on a roll yesterday, so enjoy this one too. I'm currently working on something new...**

* * *

The new additions to their rebellion did not know that Hermione and Minerva spoke with the same voice. They had no idea how complete the mating between the two women was, or that they shared everything. Those who had been in exile with them could have told everyone different but they did not – knowing that the error would be corrected eventually – probably with claws.

It actually amused Hermione to be treated like an insignificant student again, she was content for the moment to allow Minerva to speak. "He Who Shall Not Be Named uses the Ministry as a symbol of power but is not the base of his power – nor does he allow himself to be seen there. He has yet to consolidate his control to the point where that would be advisable. Many witches and wizards believe the lies that are spouted from within the Ministry. Therefore we must remove the Ministry of Magic itself."

There was a general outcry at her words. Minerva was suggesting that they destroy hundreds of years of tradition. People talked amongst themselves for a few moments before the former Professor brought the room back to order. "Unless you have something constructive to say, please hold your comments until later."

"We should blow it up!" The yell came from Thomas McKinley, a rather militant former Ravenclaw who had only recently joined them.

Hermione broke her silence, "What about all of the innocent people who work there?"

"We can do it at night! Besides they all work for Him!"

Minerva's voice cut across the room like a knife, "We are NOT terrorists and we will not stoop to his level! Anyone who thinks otherwise can get out right now!"

"So what did you have in mind?" Thomas spoke again, more than a little argumentative.

Hermione spoke, "We propose to simulate a fire, when they evacuate we will move into the Ministry. Minerva has several charms in mind that will render the building uninhabitable for months to come. The Death Eaters will have to move their government elsewhere and that place will not provide them with the same credibility."

Another voice spoke up from the crowd, a woman this time – one that Hermione did not know. "That seems like a huge risk for an uncertain reward."

Minerva rose to her feet, "At this stage we cannot take on the might of the Death Eaters, last time that we tried – we failed. We have to fight a gorilla war and try to increase our numbers before we tackle He Who Shall Not Be Named directly. We need to take out strategic targets quickly and move on to the next."

* * *

Hermione gave the wand a polish, the final stages of making the tools was the most time consuming part of the entire process. The wood had to be sanded while she chanted intricate incantations in a language so old that no one except wandmakers spoke it, then layers of varnishes were applied – each coat a complex potion in its own right with a specific function. Wards were applied before polishing began with its own set of charms.

This final incantation when cast with sufficient 'old magic' would imbue the wand with various characteristics. This particular wand was special and she did not skimp on its construction. Her apprenticeship had been to make her own wand, in the meantime Ollivander had made several of them for the former exiles. This wand was her second and it was destined for her mate.

Her throat was sore, it had been a long few days of almost constant chanting but Hermione was determined to get it right. She had been unable to source wand quality ebony in this day and age, so she had come up with an innovative solution. Much of this particular wand was guesswork combined with new techniques and it was driving Ollivander crazy.

The 'wood' that Hermione was using was actually made of compressed paper, using a magical version of a muggle technique. The paper was from what was considered the bible of advanced transfiguration – a thick tome that actually featured a groundbreaking article written by Minerva several years previously. The young witch believed that the personal connection between her lover and that text, combined with her 'old magic' would serve to form a powerful base material.

The wands core was similarly created, using the hair that she had taken from Minerva's animagus form. A wand needed to be attuned to the witch, her deepest facet and ability – the very thing that formed the nature of one's animagus, therefore this particular fur should form a powerful wand core. Even Ollivander had to agree that Hermione had a point –albeit reluctantly.

"I think that it is ready."

The old man limped over to her and took the slender stick from her hand. He cast an experienced eye over it, seeming to notice things that were invisible. "A surprisingly nice job Miss Granger, especially considering your unorthodox methods. However I suggest that you test it before giving it to your paramour."

"Mate!" The single word was snarled in an unconscious defensive reaction. Hermione was barely aware of her vehement exclamation, as she took the wand back from him. "And I will. I would never put her at risk."

* * *

Minerva was fast asleep when Hermione slipped from their bed after midnight. They had stayed up late talking before retiring. She took with her not only her new wand but also the one that she had created for her mate. Disarming the protective charms the young witch left the cottage and walked along the beach, intending to find a sheltered space within the expanse of dunes.

Hermione knew that the wand was extremely powerful, she could feel it. The sensation was like an itch between her eyebrows, a tingle inside her skull – it was an odd feeling, one that she had only experienced since first working with Ollivander. The chestnut haired witch gave a sigh, she had never considered wandmaking as a career option but it seemed as though she had an aptitude for it.

The process of testing a wand started in the lab, she had inspected it carefully for any fault or flaw. The next stage was to cast spells on it with an existing wand and hope that it didn't explode – that was why the young witch was currently going somewhere a little more isolated than the cottage. Hermione had meant what she had told Ollivander, there was a part of her deep inside that recoiled from even the idea of putting her mate in harms way.

The series of spells that she worked on the slender piece of wood were something of a trade secret, closely guarded enchantments normally passed from master to apprentice. Several minutes passed with her knelt on the sand watching the faintly glowing wand hovering at eyelevel. Finally satisfied she let it drop lightly into her hand.

It was then that Hermione heard a strange noise coming from the landward side of the dunes. It sounded like pounding feet. It was followed by low voices. One in particular was very familiar – it was the maniacal and insane yet mesmerising and charismatic tones of Bellatrix Lestrange.

* * *

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

**A.N. Sorry about the delay... Life was hectic. But now I'm here in the states for a few weeks with my amazing partner... Apart from both having a cold, we're having a blast.**

* * *

A patronus erupted from each of the two wands that Hermione was carrying as she fled back across the dunes towards the cottage. The young woman was mainly concerned with escaping detection, not falling over and hoping that she had correctly done the charm that would allow them to speak. This meant that she did not notice a very important feature about her corporeal patronus, the fact that it had changed and was no longer an otter – instead two brilliant white cats bounded towards the cottage in front of her.

Fortunately she was not spotted during her frantic withdrawal and by the time she shouldered the kitchen door open, the household were awake and downstairs. Minerva grabbed her and held her tightly for a moment, "Thank Merlin that you are alright!"

"I'm fine. I heard Bellatrix Lestrange and a load of Death Eaters."

"Are you sure that we are compromised?"

Hermione retorted, "Well they might have chosen to go for a walk on a remote coastline in the middle of the night. Whether they know our exact position or not, we need to get the vulnerable people out of here." She handed Minerva the wand that she had made her, without the ceremony it deserved but it now would be tested in the heat of battle and perhaps later they could celebrate properly.

"Andromeda, take Teddy and go now."

They had prepared for this eventuality rather thoroughly once they had started recruiting from the wizarding world as a whole. There was always a worry that people who had not committed to the battle of Hogwarts, could not be trusted to fight now. As a result they had planned a number of bolt holes to hide in, the only people who knew them all were Minerva and Hermione. "Anyone else who wants or needs to go, leave now."

Various people popped away and Minerva surveyed her remaining 'troops'. "Remember the important thing at the moment is to make sure that the rebellion survives. We are not going to die protecting a cottage. However this is an optimal chance to reduce their numbers and to potentially gather intelligence about enemy plans. With that in mind and the fact that there are no safe prisons – you will need to kill."

A gasp went up from the room, they all knew that this was the case but no one had ever bluntly come out and said it. "They will not hesitate to kill you and the more that we take out now, the less will try to kill us later. William, take your team – you know what to do."

The rest of the defenders split into two groups, one heading to the left of the cottage and the other to the right. Minerva's group of course included all of her fellow exiles with the exception of Luna, as well as a scattering of other people. Hooch peered out of a front window, "Coast is clear."

Moving almost silently in a well-rehearsed action the two groups slipped out of the side exits. A whispered word opened two covered pits in the sand, both forces lay on their bellies and allowed charmed sand to cover their bodies. Only moments after the doors had opened there was nothing to be seen except a serene beach.

Minerva held tightly to Hermione's hand, the weight of the sand prevented her from shaking her head at the predicament that they were in. The younger muggleborn witch had suggested setting an ambush like this, it was something that she had seen on the telly-box. It was a good idea but inwardly the elegant witch rebelled at hiding in the dirt.

* * *

Minutes passed before they saw a gang of Death Eaters make their way down the closest dune to the cottage. They had spread out into a loose group, obviously not wanting to be hit with a spell and took cover.

"Move you idiots!" Came a harsh whisper from Bellatrix.

At least ten Death Eaters charged across the flat sandy soil in front of the cottage. They got within twenty meters when both groups of defenders magically pulled on two ropes. The cables were buried underneath a loose covering of dirt and were attached to either side of a thin metal plate. As the sheeting pulled away from beneath them, the attackers fell into a pit of Fiendfyre that opened under them.

Their screams lasted for only a few seconds before falling silent. Bellatrix screeched in wordless fury and spurred her remaining – but rather more cautious followers forward.

Minerva whispered, "Now," and her team burst from their hiding place and engaged the Death Eaters in open combat. The jinx that she shot at Bellatrix was the first time that she had used her new wand and she was pleasantly surprised that it did not feel alien in her hand. What did feel odd was the fact that she was using a wand for the first time in months.

The ambush deteriorated into chaos pretty quickly. Hermione was taking on three powerful Death Eaters in a startling display of magic. Minerva was engaged in a duel with Bellatrix Lestrange, her new wand holding up extremely well to the power and complexity of the spells that it was channelling. But they were still outnumbered and the tide of battle began to turn against them.

A burst of magic shot through Hermione, allowing her to throw her adversaries across the beach as though they were nothing more than litter swept up in a hurricane. Flipping her wand upwards she sent out a cascade of red sparks – the prearranged signal for the order to flee from the battle. At the same moment Minerva managed to disarm Bellatrix, Hermione was running back towards her mate. They both reached the Death Eater at the same time and dissaperated, clutching onto the evil woman.

Several minutes later the beach was abandoned once again. Save for the ruins of a burning cottage, a number of dead bodies on the beach and a wickedly curved wand lying forgotten on the sand.

* * *

When Bellatrix woke up she was in a cold room that smelled musty and slightly damp like a basement. Her eyes had lost the dark adjustment that she had gained while in Azkaban and she could see nothing more than vague shapes around her. She could however hear the breathing of another person in the room.

There was no tingling sensation in her Dark Mark and so she knew that the Dark Lord was not the one in the room with her. That fact gave her a momentary sense of relief. When he played games like this with his followers – it was rarely painless, free from humiliation or degradation. Almost as quick as it had appeared, the relief vanished because after all you did not need to be Voldemort to inflict pain and suffering. Bellatrix Lestrange had known that for a long time, even before she began to inflict it on others herself.

Whoever had brought her here knew that she couldn't stand waiting. Patience had never been one of her virtues and more than a decade in Azkaban had not improved the situation. "What do you want?" For a long minute there was no sound, obviously her captor was someone very patient or who had learnt that particular virtue.

An educated and very familiar voice spoke from the darkness. "As impatient as ever Bellatrix?" There was an odd note in the controlled tones of the Scottish brogue and the Death Eater felt herself exhale sharply – knowing that while her former professor could be ruthless, she wouldn't be needlessly cruel.

"Some things never change."

"However some do."

From deeper in the shadows Hermione watched curiously as the two women began to interact. She knew that Minerva had taught many of Voldemort's followers but there seemed to be more to their 'relationship' than mere familiarity. Once her mate had spoken, the insane Death Eater had seemed to calm down and had stopped her jittery motions.

"I see that you escaped from the island where we left you. Obviously the half-blood was better at surviving than I thought. I would have returned to... check on you but the Dark Lord wanted her left alone for now." There was a bitter note in her voice, "And turn the bloody light on for Merlin's sake."

Minerva gave a rueful grin, truthfully she hadn't even noticed the gloom, her eyes adapted extremely well to the dark now that her animagus traits had become a part of her - albeit while containing vivid flecks of gold. She waved a hand and a ball of light appeared over the chair in the middle of the room. While it brightened the cellar it didn't allow Bellatrix to see too many details about where she was being kept – for obvious reasons.

"Better?"

"Why did you bring me here? He'll find me you know and this time he'll kill you." That fast, nervous, ever shifting intense gaze moved to Hermione and flickered away just as quickly.

"Perhaps he will think that you defected. After all you almost did once before."

"He knows that I am loyal. And I was punished for my moment of doubt."

"I wish..." Minerva shook her head and conjured a chair, for once feeling her age.

"Is this where you torture me with kindness? Save your breath."

"Torture is your speciality Bellatrix, not mine."

"I'm sure that you are aware that I am a superb at Occulemancy. Torture may well turn out to be your only option."

Minerva crossed her legs, relaxing into the chair. "I hardly think that it will to come to that."

"And why's that?"

"Knowledge is also a weapon Bellatrix and I happen to know rather more about you than you might think." There was silence and Hermione saw the maniacal witch turn an odd shade of pale puce. Whatever information that Minerva had was obviously a closely guarded secret. "In fact knowledge can be a far more effective means of torture than violence... Especially in this case, wouldn't you agree?"


	17. Chapter 17

Since they had left their island Hermione had frequently had it rammed home that she actually knew very little about Minerva or the life that the older woman had led prior to their mutual exile. This was one of those occasions. There was obviously some kind of prior relationship between her mate and Bellatrix Lestrange. It was also quite clearly not that of former student and professor but what it actually had been, she did not know. And it was driving her crazy.

The lunatic Death Eater took a deep breath and to Hermione's shock, she saw tears glimmer in the dark orbs. Then Voldemorts apostate did something incredible and in a whimper she asked, "What do you want to ask?" The young observer was beyond shock at this point and she merely raised an eyebrow.

Minerva spoke in her normal tone, ignoring the obvious distress that she had caused. "How would you feel about making a deal with me?"

"What could you possibly offer me?"

"A way out."

"Don't be naive Minerva, no one leaves HIS service. I couldn't even if I wanted to."

"Help us and I can guarantee your safety."

"Not enough."

"I am just getting to the best part of my offer." Minerva paused and placed a hand atop the other womans, ignoring Hermione's quiet growl. "I can end your torment."

"How're you going to do that? Kill me? I do admit that death has seemed like a welcome release at some points... however I found more constructive ways to work off my frustrations."

"By killing and torturing the innocent? Making them feel the same pain that you are trying to escape?" Minerva took her hand off of the other womans and sat up stiffly. "I remember a Bellatrix who was caring, more compassionate than you would ever expect from a Black, who possessed a great sense of humour... somewhat shy, sensitive."

"She is dead."

"It doesn't have to be that way. What if I could give it all back, stop the memories... the dreams?"

"Do you have a time turner that I don't know about Minerva? There's no way of doing that and don't demean me by offering counselling or some other muggle bullshit."

"Actually I was thinking about obliviating you."

"What?"

"Think about it. I cannot turn back time, I cannot give you your childhood back, I cannot bring your sister back. But I can take away your memories, either all of them or part of them. I can remove the Dark Mark from your arm and take you somewhere where you will be unknown." Minerva stood and transfigured their captives chair into a more comfortable one. "I will leave you to think about it."

The exiled professor opened the door that led to stairs into the cottage and without thinking Hermione followed her. There was an animal urge deep inside of the younger woman that was screaming at her to kill the potential threat to her mate and another bestial emotion – jealousy. It was with that emotion at the forefront that the still unthinking woman pulled Minerva to her, kissing her passionately, almost roughly – in full view of the captive woman in the cellar, before slamming the door behind them.

The older witch was not oblivious to the fact that Hermione was trying to prove something by her actions. Unfortunately her body responded to the younger woman and she clung on, sinking into the kiss. Eventually reality resurfaced and she pushed her mate away – albeit reluctantly. "Mione?" She shook her head and injected a healthy dose of Professor McGonagall into her tone, "What in the hell was that?"

"I'm sorry... I don't know... I..." Wide chocolate eyes looked at her in shock and Hermione lapsed into silence.

Astutely the older woman realised that the younger witch had not been in control of her actions. "There is no need for you to feel insecure, I was about to tell you the whole story – there was no need for that type of display."

Hermione frowned and moved into the kitchen, pouring them both a large scotch from the meagre supplies that they had brought to the abandoned cottage. It was an action that Minerva had never seen the younger woman perform and she gave her own frown. "Sometimes I think that your... animal side has bled over into me. Normally when you go into heat I get all possessive. Is that it?"

The older woman took her glass of amber fluid from Hermione's hand and took a sip, "I do not believe so. The signs that I have become accustomed to are not present, besides the timing is wrong."

The younger witch took a generous swallow of the liquor before speaking. "I was just enraged and jealous, it wasn't something that I could control."

"Shall I put your mind at ease? I have never been in a romantic relationship with Bellatrix Lestrange, nor do I have any desire to become involved with anyone but you. I love you."

"And I love you."

"Good. Now is there any food in that bag or just alcohol?"

Hermione laughed and handed the older woman a sandwich, she took her own and waited for her mate to speak.

"Bellatrix was once one of my favourite students, we developed something akin to friendship over the years and I became close to her... too close. As you can imagine her home life was not ideal and she would often appear after holidays bruised and subdued. She always spoke about moving away from her family after her NEWTS but gradually the abuse that she was suffering at home was slowly eroding her spirit."

Minerva sighed and took another swig of her drink, "At that time child abuse was not reported in quite the same way as we do now. Professors had lost their jobs trying to help students and although I did inform the board of governors, I was instructed to remain silent."

Tears were glistening in emerald eyes, "You probably do not know that there was a fourth Black sister. She was born a squib and mentally challenged. The only love and kindness that the girl ever received was from Bellatrix, who spent as much time as possible with her when away from school."

"What was her name?"

"If she was ever given one Bellatrix did not know it. The child was kept away from the rest of the family but was subject to the same abuse as were her older sisters."

Hermione scrubbed a hand over her face, for the first time feeling a genuine sympathy for the insane Death Eater. "What kind of abuse?"

Silver rivulets began to run down Minerva's cheeks, "Every kind. At first she confided in me but gradually she stopped. Bellatrix started to retreat into herself. One September she arrived for school as a different person – as though someone had flicked a switch and changed her into someone else."

"Did she tell you what had happened?"

"Not at first." Minerva's fists tightened in remembered anger, "She stopped dawdling after lessons to talk to me, stopped coming to my office for tea. Whenever I tried to get her to speak she would react in anger. It wasn't until months later that I caught her drunkenly stumbling around in the corridors, she exploded at me screaming hate filled things."

Silent tears were freely flowing down her face now, "She eventually told me what had happened. Her sister had tried vainly to save Bellatrix from being... abused by a family member, she was thrown across the room by magic and was killed. Bella never knew if it was deliberate or an accident. All she knew was that her beloved sister was dead, she blamed herself for her death and vowed not to be helpless again."

Shaking hands rubbed the tears away, "So that's the bond between Bellatrix and myself. Guilt. She feels guilty for the death of her sister and I feel guilty for not stopping what was happening and for not being able to comfort her. She later went on to become a cruel and vicious person, lashing out at others to enable her to feel something... else."

Minerva finished the generous glass of amber liquid, relishing the burn in her throat and stomach. "I taught most of them Hermione, I remember them as little eleven year olds and it is hard to reconcile what they eventually became with those memories."

"It wasn't your fault."

"Thank you my love but as you know, every person who does not speak out against an injustice is a part of the problem."

Hermione stood up and wrapped both arms tightly around her mate. "While that is true, she made her own choices and you cannot be held responsible for them." Something long buried in the older woman erupted and she began to sob into the arms of her lover.

She was crying for the deaths of so many friends, the loss of so much in the wizarding world. Both of Voldemorts rebellions had caused an irrevocable amount of damage... and the loss of so much innocence. Soon it would be time to go and see what choice Bellatrix had made, they needed information to ensure that they succeeded this time. Without the information that the Death Eater possessed millions of people could die. Everything had been staked on the decision that Minerva had made, they had put their future at the whim of a madwoman.


	18. Chapter 18

**A.N. Writing's hard at the moment, especially the happier stuff - so I thought that I'd have a bash at this story again. Sorry about the delay. **

* * *

Hermione couldn't sleep, it was more than simple insomnia. The very presence of Bellatrix Lestrange in the safe house hung heavily in the air in a way that was eerily familiar – reminiscent of a horcrux. She had left Minerva thrashing around in a tangle of sheets and her feet led without thought to the cooler air seeping from underneath the cellar door. There was something primal within her that wanted to see the Death Eater dead, knowing that Minerva's plan could gain them useful intelligence but would almost certainly risk the life of the woman that she loved.

It was an urge that shocked the peace loving witch to her core and she had to grab the doorframe for support. She knew that the last year had changed her personality, that she was a lot tougher than she had been but until that moment she had not realised that she had developed a streak of ruthlessness. It was partly due to her body's instinctive response to the changes that Minerva was going through – the urge to protect or if she was completely truthful to tear apart anything that threatened her mate was overwhelming.

Hermione began to tremble and she spun on her heel practically running back to the bedroom. Minerva had stilled somewhat, curled into a ball underneath the covers but her sleep was apparently anything but peaceful. She was clutching her stomach as though she was in pain and was making whimpering noises. The younger witch sat next to her and began to caress the older woman's hair.

"Minerva... Wake up."

"Mmmmmpphh...'Mione?"

"You were having a bad dream." Hermione continued to stroke the ebony tresses.

"Sorry."

"That's ok. How do you feel?"

Minerva frowned as she thought hard about the answer, "Conflicted."

"How so?"

"You are too Hermione, I can see it in your eyes."

A sigh, "I just realised that the better part of my nature is warring with... something else... something new."

"Exactly how much is my transformation affecting you?"

"Greatly." The single word was short. "I want to protect you. It's more than a want, more than a need, it's a compulsion."

There was silence for a few minutes. "I know that my plan is risky Hermione but I cannot completely give up on Bellatrix and if I can save her I will."

"You know that I will support you Minerva but if it comes to a choice of killing her or loosing you..." There was a growl running through the younger woman's words that made the animal part of Minerva rejoice, even while the human part loathed their necessity.

* * *

"Yes."

"What?"

"Yes Minerva I will do what you ask." The former professor was surprised as she looked at the very quiet Death Eater. "I will betray my compatriots in exchange for the possibility that you are offering me."

Minerva nodded, concealing her pleasure at the outcome.

Bellatrix spat out her next words with venom, "So why don't you get your little girlfriend in here to take notes."

"Where is His powerbase?"

The Death Eater went on to describe the architectural changes that had happened at the Ministry and the fact that while others provided the pretty public face – He was most definitely in charge. He sat on a throne in the bowels of the building ruling over everything with an iron fist but only his followers were aware of that. The Auror Department was now responsible for putting down dissent but there was little of it occurring. The few muggleborns who had not fled were now regretting it. There was widespread suffering because the Death Eaters had not cared about restoring normal public services when they began to reconstruct the government. Healthcare was reserved only for His followers and even education was non-existent unless conducted at home. Interrogation and torture had become commonplace. Assets and property of anyone even suspected of being a rebel were seized.

Much of this information Minerva and Hermione had already ascertained by talking to the newer members of the resistance. She was more interested in the size and location of Voldemorts forces. The answers that she got both shocked and dismayed them. Things had grown worse than they had dreamed. Voldemort was positioned to start taking over Europe and if they did not stop him now, he would become unstoppable.

Bellatrix spoke until the daylight faded and her voice grew hoarse. Hermione wrote down every word, knowing that even the off-colour jokes could contain clues that they would need later. Eventually the Death Eater fell silent but only for a moment. "You'd be better off killing me."

Minerva nodded, "Probably."

"You've killed before."

"Yes in battle."

"But you aren't sure that you can kill in cold blood?"

The older witch frowned, allowing her animal side to speak to her. "I could if I had to."

"Not that I want to die."

"I gave you my word Bellatrix and I will keep it." Hermione noticed that Minerva's hand was shaking as the older woman pointed her wand at the Death Eater's head. There was a brief pause before she whispered "Obliviate."

Memory charms were not the older woman's forte but she was still capable enough to erase the entirety of Bellatrix's memory. She also gave the Death Eater the ability to speak fluent Greek whilst removing her knowledge of English, thus ensuring that the witch would not be likely to find her way back to Britain. There was another pause and Minerva uttered a spell that she had only ever seen written down, it was one that was rarely even used anymore – it would permanently bind the Death Eaters magic, making even accidental usage impossible.

Hermione watched as a blinding purple light erupted from Minerva's wand and swirled around Bellatrix. It left the Death Eater unconscious and slumped in her chair. Moments later the two women grasped her and apparated the unconscious former witch away to her new place of exile.

* * *

A few days later

The warding around the tents was complete; it covered almost half an acre and surrounded almost thirty temporary dwellings. Hermione had warded their tent initially and added her considerable magic to the larger spell that was encircling the entire camp.

Minerva strolled over to her young lover and leaned in, brushing her own lips about the soft ones of her mate. "Did you remember to cast a silencing charm on our tent?"

Hermione's lip quirked into a saucy grin, "Yes of course I did."

"Shall we test it?"

"We have an early start in the morning Minerva." The young woman spoke slowly, they had planned their raid on the Ministry for the following morning.

"Well I know that but right now I do not care. I will make sure that you get an early night." Hermione gave another smirk and allowed herself to be pulled into the tent.

Like the one that she had spent the better part of a year living in, this tent was huge – consisting of a living area, kitchen and a large bedroom with a fully working en-suite. She barely had time to glance around before the older woman's lips came down on her own again in a passionate kiss.

The younger witch returned the kiss with vigour but gave a yelp when she found herself lifted up and carried over to the sofa. Minerva's hand slid between Hermione's legs and began to rub at the fabric at the juncture of her thighs.

"Minerva?"

"Need you." The two words were growled and gold eyes with elongated pupils stared intently into darkened chocolate. "And right now 'Mione I can't control it. I need you so badly that it hurts. Divesto."

Hermione yelped again as she felt the cool air on her bare skin. Midway through the exclamation it turned into a moan when Minerva's fingers grazed her inner thigh and rapidly made their way into her folds. "What are you doing to me?"

"Oh I think you know exactly what I am doing to you... and what I am about to do..." A single finger slipped over a sensitive nub and began to massage it into arousal. The fully dressed witch knelt in front of the sofa and began to retrace the path of her hand with her lips.

A nimble tongue lapped at the tender flesh and made its way towards Hermione's rapidly heating centre. After a moment it replaced Minerva's finger and the younger witch threw her head back in response. The last few months had taught the older woman exactly what would drive her mate crazy and she put that information to good use now.

Hermione began to whimper with desire and bucked her hips up into Minerva's touch. She spread her legs wider inviting her lovers caress. The older woman gave a chuckle and slid her fingers to Hermione's entrance. "Mine."

"Yours." After the response Minerva slipped two fingers into her mates wanting centre and after a few thrusts she added a third. The sensation evoked a high-pitched cry from Hermione's throat and the naked young witch began to writhe around in ecstasy. She was not the shy virgin that she had once been and began to plead aloud for the things that she needed. Things that Minerva was only too happy to give her.

* * *

The following afternoon

Hermione dodged behind a wall, knowing that Minerva was only a split second behind her. Simultaneously they cast fire spells underneath the magical smoke detectors but as soon as the fire control systems kicked in the blazes were extinguished. Both witches regrouped and shot progressively stronger incantations into the lobby.

"It's no use Hermione, we need to retreat."

"We won't get another chance at this."

"The only spell left is living flame. You know what that can do, I will not cast that in a room full of innocents."

Hermione gritted her teeth and slid her wand into a pocket. She raised her hand in an unconscious, instinctive gesture. Suddenly a wall of fire erupted in front of them, it was a roiling mass of flames in an odd yellowish gold colour. The flames licked at the ceiling as though someone had poured accelerant on them.

Minerva's claws dug into the marble flooring in something like sheer terror. Hair rose on the back of her neck and under her clothing. Even when she realised that they were in no immediate danger her body was still poised, ready for attack or flight. It was then that the magical suppression system realised that it could not cope and the evacuation alarm sounded.

People began to rush around the fire, not realising that the flames did not hurt any of them, nor did the smoke choke them. Hermione began to push it deeper into the building, knowing that Voldemort's followers would only evacuate when it seemed hopeless. Like liquid the flames rolled down the stairs leaving the magical elevators clear.

The rest of the assault team finally arrived behind them, ready to help cast the fire spells but found that their assistance was not required. "What spell is she doing? Is that even a charm?"

Minerva snorted, "You never believed us about the capability of the old magicks. Well here is your proof." While she would never have admitted it, she had absolutely no idea what spell Hermione was doing and doubted that her mate even knew. From her understanding the younger witch concentrated on what she wanted to achieve rather than on any particular incantation. It was that which made her so powerful and inherently dangerous.

"She is amazing."

"She. is. Mine!" Sharp canine teeth glinted in the firelight.

"Not disputing that. You're both bloody scary these days."

"Good. Now spread out. You know what to do."

A huge number of spells, incantations and magical items were scattered around the Ministry that evening. Everything from the new and improved Weasley swamp, through to magical stink bombs. The aim was to make the Ministry uninhabitable for months to come. Without the civilised face of the magical government behind him, Voldemort would be less believable and more people would flock to their banner.

At least that was the hope.


End file.
